


Garden State of Eden

by raynon



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Copia's best boi, Demonology & Sorcery, Depictions of self harm for religious purposes, Frank's Catholic, Gerard's full of teen angst, Heavy references to Satanism, M/M, Mild body horror in later chapters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Primo's the most devout, Ray's a ghoul, Secondo's a bitch (but he secretly loves his son), Terzo is full of sunshine, feat. demons from the Lesser Key of Solomon, small amount of angsty frikey - best friends to enemies to Rivals (if you know what i mean), the Ghouls are all nonbinary because I said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 84,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26066425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynon/pseuds/raynon
Summary: Mikey's the Antichrist, Gerard is in the line of the Emerituses. When Sister Imperator feels threatened by her son's future to the papacy, she tries to take action, but narrowly avoids killing Gerard. He escaped with his brother, and now they have to figure out how to grow up on their own without the comfort of the Church.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. 1980

Snow fell heavy on the eleventh hour before Black Mass, in the courtyard of Vadstena Abbey. And yet, throughout the whole grounds, it had never felt warmer. Thousands of candles were lit for the occasion, and devout followers all came to celebrate the most long-awaited night in Satanic history. Their savior would finally arrive.

The second brother of the Emeritus bloodline stood tall and proud at the altar amongst the Ghouls, his arms held out wide like a proper maestro as the Siblings of Sin filled the floor of the chapel, humming and singing the unholy hymn amongst their melodic cries of passion. Only two Sisters couldn’t find themselves to join. The first, Sister Imperator, head of the  _ Polismyndigheten Corps of Vadstena _ , stood silent in observation over the second Sister’s shoulder, Sister Madonna, who was trying her best to breathe through labor pains.

As struggled breathing broke out into cries, a full moon shone through in a crimson eclipse, beams of unholy light shining down through the center of a monstrance, onto Sister Madonna’s face. Soon enough, every candle on the church grounds extinguished all at once, and silence took over when a new cry interrupted the hymn.

Most were surprised to hear the sounds of an average human baby, though the writhing child was covered in black ichor. It had the shape and color of a human as well, but as Papa Emeritus stepped up to have a better look in the midwife’s arms, he grinned. “Ah,  _ molto bello, _ ” he purred, gazing into the child’s black eyes. He allowed the Ghouls to gather as well, bells ringing out to sound the hour of midnight. After the child was cleaned and wrapped in a blanket, Papa regained his flashy persona and approached the edge of the stage. “My dearest followers, I am more than honored to announce the arrival of your new Messiah!”

Alpha turned their head from the child to look at Sister Imperator. There was something about her stare that didn’t read joyful or relieved. There was nothing at all to her expression, and their tail flicked anxiously.

Gerard could hear the cheering from his third-storey window. His elbows pressed down into the sill, chin heavy in his hands. His frustrated sigh fogged the glass just long enough for him to draw a quick frowny-face into it. Thankfully, he didn’t flinch when he felt a hand rest against his tiny shoulder.

“Why are you not pleased for the arrival of your brother?” a soft voice asked.

“I am...” Gerard straightened his posture and turned his head. “Really. Papa has been waiting for this moment...I’m sure everyone has. I just wish I was there with everyone. It’s like you said, he’s my  _ brother. _ Doesn’t that mean enough, Copia?”

Copia, although still just a hair too young to understand fully, sighed as if he did understand. “It’s as you’ve been told; tonight’s ritual is not for your eyes. You’re not ready to witness--” He gave a vague gesture before reaching to pet the nose of the rat on his shoulder. “--eh, the  _ details _ . You’re only six, after all.”

Gerard chewed on his lip, crossing the room to sit on his oversized bed. “I’m still important, right? They won’t forget about me just because the Antichrist is here?”

“Oh,  _ min vän, _ all descendents of Emeritus are important. In fact, you will have one of the most important jobs of all; you get to watch over him.” Copia’s white eye shone in the dim light of the room, reflecting Gerard’s similar one. “I don’t think you need to worry. Lucifer has a plan for all of us.”

The double doors creaked as they were slowly opened, and two Sisters entered the room with proud smiles. “Papa calls for you both,” they said in unison.

Gerard seemed to have forgotten his woes immediately, and hopped back on his feet to race to the chapel.

The Antichrist had been moved into a bedroom above the chapel, and truth be told, he was just more happy to see all the Papas in one place over the little creature sleeping in his mother’s arms. The mother he shared with the actual Antichrist, the mother that looked exhausted beyond measure, but happy.

Gerard cast all proper manners to the wind, as a six year old is wont to do, and he ran as fast as he could across the room to tackle Secondo in the legs with a hug. The man scowled down at Gerard and cleared his throat. “Where are your manners?” he chided.

“Oh. Sorry.” Gerard backed up a few steps and lifted his left hand, pointer and index fingers pointed upward with an open thumb. “Good evening, Papas.”

Terzo folded his hands together over his chest. “Congratulations on becoming a big brother!” he said softly with a bright smile. “Come, come see him.” He led Gerard to stand beside Nihil, who was stroking the baby’s sparse hair.

Gerard stared down at the tiny thing, and the first thing he thought was how fragile such a powerful being looked like this. So vulnerable. He tilted his head as he stared. He didn’t want to admit he was a little unimpressed in fear of getting scolded again. Instead, he glanced up to Copia, though he wasn’t sure what sort of answer he was looking for.

“You,  _ mio figlio, _ are now the most special Emeritus son in history,” Terzo told him, his hand still resting between his shoulder blades. “To have such a close connection to our lord, you two are destined for such great things.”

That thought put a smile on Gerard’s face, at the very least. At least his relevancy hadn’t dwindled because of the birth. Maybe it only got stronger. Turning his face up to Terzo, he caught the face of Sister Imperator in his peripherals, caught her  _ glare _ , which made his smile ebb from the corners of his lips.

  
  
  


Elsewhere, in the Ghoul’s wing, most of them were either resting in their nests or preparing for the oncoming festivities that would take place when the sun rose. Alpha, however, couldn’t seem to relax at all. Omega had taken notice, and they were sure they knew the reason. As Alpha plucked anxiously away at a riff they wanted to improve on when Omega approached them, sitting cross-legged in front of them.

“Can I help you?” Alpha asked quietly, their fingers keeping pace.

Omega leaned forward. “Do you think she’s planning something?”

“When is she  _ not _ planning something?” Alpha grumbled. “She’s the Church’s brains, if the Papas are its heart. There’s always something going on in that head of hers.”

“Something blasphemous?” Omega shifted even closer.

Alpha finally looked up, squinting in warning. “You’re speaking very dangerously for someone in hearing range of the other ghouls.”

“Ghouls that were summoned by the Papas, not Imperator. We’re not loyal to her.” Omega folded their hands in their lap. “It’s not like you’ve been very subtle about how you feel around her, anyway. We all know you don’t trust her. And we can see the way she’s been looking at the child.”

Alpha’s lithe fingers ran up and down the frets to try and keep themself calm. “The problem is not knowing what exactly she’s planning to do. And she knows when she’s being suspected.”

“If it’s a matter of protecting the Antichrist or Gerard, the Papas should be aware of this. Secondo, especially.”

Alpha nodded, and lowered their face. “She can’t be everywhere at once. She’s usually stuck to Nihil’s side most of the time anyway, so we can find some way to get the message across.”

“As soon as possible?” Omega asked.

“As soon as possible,” Alpha confirmed, and set the guitar down. “And keep an eye on Gerard’s room.” When they stood, they gently brushed their fingers against Omega’s cheek before moving to the wall and revealing a secret passage. There was a spiral stairwell that led upward, and a long corridor with brick-like doors hidden throughout.

Alpha was careful to stand in front of the correct door, since they all looked the same, and slowly pushed it open.

“Did I give you permission to enter?” Primo asked, sitting at an ornate writing desk. He was dressed down in a flannel robe and uncharacteristically fuzzy slippers. He had an open leather-bound stack of what looked like sheet music laid out all over the surface. “You’re not wearing your mask, either. What’s the meaning of this?”

“An emergency--” Alpha lowered their face, folding their hands behind their back. “A suspicion, more so, Papa. My deepest apologies for disturbing you during your Black Mass preparations on just a suspicion, but please know it is serious.”

Primo hummed, raising a brow. “It seems all the ghouls have been in unrest this evening. You skitter about anxiously, tell me, why is this so?”

“It’s...Sister Imperator, Papa. Malice lingers about her.” When Papa curled his fingers, Alpha stepped fully into the room. “She’s never once shown Sister Madonna kindness, nor Gerard. I don’t want to speak on behalf of all ghouls at the abbey, but I implore you to pray on the truth behind her intentions. For Gerard’s sake, and for the Antichrist’s.”

Primo pressed his hands flat against the desk and pushed himself up with a deep exhale. “If the matter is so urgent, let us reconvene at my altar.” He tossed a black stole on over his shoulders and retrieved a small box, gesturing for Alpha to follow him out of the room.

They passed through the vast gardens, even in winter it still contained blooming plants of whites and blues. The sky was a deep heather, which meant that sunrise was an hour away at the most. At the far wall of the garden was a structure akin to a mausoleum, a stone building with stained glass windows embedded in three out of the four walls. Primo unlocked the door to it and stepped in, Alpha still following close behind.

Inside awaited an altar and a cushion for the old man’s knees. A cloth draped over the altar, in swirls of jewel tones with a Grucifix at the bottom. Primo opened his box and pulled out a piece of paper and incense, and when Alpha lit the end of the stick with just their finger, he used the ash to draw a sigil of Gusion. A bowl was then placed over the paper, which he filled with water.

Once Primo knelt down, he started muttering in Latin. Alpha remained silent behind him. They stayed that way until the water in the bowl began rippling on its own accord, and fog rolled over the small surface area. Primo looked up from his hands, both of them watching anxiously.

The fog took shapes that moved, and they had to focus to make sure they saw the signs before they vanished. The first was a winged wolf that breathed fire, a child pressed down between its front paws. The second was the unholy papal hat, but instead of the Grucifix brandished on it, there was another sigil.

Alpha took another piece of paper to quickly draw it down. “That’s Phenex,” they muttered.

Primo sat back on his heels a moment, and he blew the fog away. “Imperator is planning on taking Gerard out of the lineage, probably by killing him. Make sure that those two stay away from each other.”

“It will be done, Papa.” Alpha bowed to him and left Primo to mull over his thoughts, sighing as he noticed the first peak of sunlight filtering through a stainglass image of Lucifer. It was going to be a very long week.   
  
  


It was the best Black Mass in Gerard’s young life. Not only because he received more gifts than ever, but because the events lasted a whole week. Of course, there were tons of rooms that he was forbidden from entering this year, more so than usual at least, but there was more food to be had, the Ghouls would sing and play for him, and he even got to make a family of snowmen with Copia. It was turning out to be the best week of his life.

Another rarity he surprisingly got to indulge in was spending time with his mother. Sister Madonna was still in recovery, but nothing made her feel better than being around her boys. In return, Gerard loved resting his head against her shoulder and dozing off while she read him stories about mythology from around the world, how different cultures had different reasons for how the stars came to be.

The Antichrist, of course, got his fair dues. Though nobody was allowed to touch him except for a select few, hundreds, if not thousands, came worldwide to lay gifts at his cradle by the day. It proved to be a lot of attention for someone who was only days old, but he never cried, hardly ever fussed except for his primal needs. At the same time, he hardly ever seemed to sleep until he was reunited with his mother.

The three Papas, and even Nihil, were all busy with sermons and congregations. It felt like they were on their feet all 24 hours of the day, giving blessings and praises for sins of the followers. Of course there were bishops and cardinals to fill in the gaps they just couldn’t cover, but it was the most reception the church had gotten, as far as they knew. And the  _ festivities!  _ Well, there were many reasons Gerard and even Copia weren’t allowed to attend.

The week was the highlight for everyone, but at the end, they were just exhausted. The sun had set on the final day, and Gerard was wrapped up in a thick fleece throw, sitting in the windowsill of his mother’s room. One of his favorite things in the world to look at was the silhouette of the church’s architecture against the darkening sky. 

“Gerard?” Sister Madonna called out, her voice pulling him out of his far-off gaze. There was something different about her voice, maybe it was slightly more gravelly, or the tone was just a touch too demanding. But when he looked at her, the smile seemed all the same. “Come, lie next to me.”

The Antichrist was fast asleep in a nest of blankets beside the bed, so Gerard did his best to remain quiet. He’d brought her the book he wanted her to read--  _ the Lesser Key of Solomon _ \--and nestled down against her side. “Primo gave this one to me, he said that I should start learning my history early.”

“Ah, yes-- you know the hymn Year Zero, correct?” she asked, her nails dragging lightly over his scalp. “The four demons chanted throughout the song. Who are they?”

“Belial, Behemoth, Beelzebub, and then Asmodeus,” Gerard answered automatically.

“Smart boy. Their histories and meanings are in this book, as well as sixty-eight others.”

His eyes boggled.

“Yes, that certainly is a lot. The Ghouls and the Siblings call upon these demons to aid them in sorcery.”

“Am I gonna learn sorcery one day?” he asked, feeling her nails skim along the back of his neck. It was an off-putting feeling; he could feel dull pain in the trails the nails left in their wake, like a vague warning sign he couldn’t interpret.

She shook her head. “You don’t have to, my son. There’s no need.” Pulling Gerard in closer, she wrapped an arm around his chest and moved her other hand back against his neck, fingers starting to grip his throat.

“M...Mom?” Gerard asked, struggling.

“You won’t be alive long enough for any of that,” Two voices came out of her mouth now, and when Gerard tilted his head up--  _ bad idea, there was more room to choke him now _ \--he saw Imperator’s face.

Gerard’s jaw fell slack, but his wet eyes were wide and panicking. He still tried to call out for his mother, though he knew it was useless at this point. His vision was going fuzzy. His whole body jumped at the sound of a loud crash, but his conscious was only half-there at that point, and it was too difficult to comprehend the next few minutes. He knew someone else had entered the room, and suddenly his throat in a whole new different way, but he was breathing again. At least he knew that before everything flashed a blinding white before going black.   
  
  


When Gerard came to again, he knew he wasn’t in Vadstena anymore. The blanket he was laying on didn’t smell the same; it smelled more like an old book and felt like it could fall apart if he moved the wrong way on it. The room was dark, too dark for him to really make out any distinguishable, let alone recognizable features about it. He jumped to sit up. “Copia!” was the first thing to leave his mouth. There was an odd relief that washed over him to know he still had his voice. That he could breathe regularly again. His hand gently skimmed over his throat, though it was still sore.

The first response he was met with was a baby’s cranky cry, and Gerard looked over at a lit fireplace. He could feel shifting next to him, and realized his brother was laying beside him. He’d woken him up.

“You’re safe, Gerard,” a soft voice told him from beside the fireplace. In the orange and yellow glow was the outline of a ghoul without their mask. Their eyes shone like opals. “Forgive me, we had to get you as far from Imperator as we could. Well, we’re still in the process of moving you farther, but this place is safe for now.”

“Where is...here?” Gerard’s instincts were to pull his brother in his lap, and just holding him seemed to calm his cries. “Where’s Copia, or Terzo? Where’s Sister Madonna?”

“We’re hiding out in one of Nihil’s villas, one he hasn’t used in a very long time. Imperator wouldn’t think to look here.” The ghoul was poking the fire with something long and thin, though Gerard couldn’t see the end of it, buried under the burning wood. “Terzo is taking measures to keep Imperator at the Abbey for as long as he can, and Copia should be just fine. He was never in any danger.”

Gerard swallowed hard. That didn’t answer any questions about his mother, and at that point, he was afraid to ask again. His eyes started to sting, and he shut them with a scowl. “Am I ever gonna see them again?”

The ghoul stood up and stepped closer to Gerard. Now he could identify them as Alpha, seeing that the top elemental symbol branded in their chest was the upright triangle. All the symbols seemed to have a dull glow to them, including a new one still faintly bleeding from their inner elbow. They sat beside Gerard and wiped the boy’s tears away. “You will. You’ve been given a very important task, Gerard, and it’s up to you and me to carry it through.”

Gerard swallowed, trying to keep his face down. “Primo said it’s bad luck to look at ghouls without their masks on.” He noticed there were light smears of what looked like dark iridescent oil on his shirt-- ghoul blood. He glanced back at the fresh brand on Alpha’s arm, and frowned more.

“Primo says that because we look different from you. He doesn’t want any Siblings to get scared of how we look, is all,” Alpha explained. “But I’m not going to look this way for much longer.”

That prompted Gerard to look back up at his face, taking in the features while he could. Alpha’s hair was like a cloud of glowing auburn smoke, curls exploding from their head to cascade and end at their shoulders. Their horns curled back over their skull, framing an oddly round face for something that was supposed to be so intimidating. “What do you mean?” Gerard finally muttered, wiping at his own face when fresh tears fell.

“Come, sit with me by the fire. Bring your brother.” Alpha laid a gentle hand on Gerard’s back to urge him onto his feet, and they sat him down a safe distance on the floor. Alpha sat almost right next to the fireplace’s mouth, and grabbed the iron rod. “I’m not sure how much you’ve learned about sorcery yet, but it’s going to help us protect the Antichrist. Do you know your Solomonic demons?”

“Not...not all of them. There’s so many.” Gerard folded his legs up carefully.

Alpha nodded. “That’s alright, I’m not going to unload a bunch of information on you. All you need to know is that every demon has a sigil. Every demon also has a power, or a meaning, and when you put a sigil on your body--” They pulled the rod out from the fire. Gerard could see now that the end was shaped in lines, curves, and circles, and his skin began to crawl. “--you essentially give yourself a direct line to the demon.”

Gerard tensed up, gathering his brother in his arms to press the child against his chest. His eyes were wide with panic as he watched the scorching metal sizzle against the ghoul’s skin, unable to tear his gaze away. He did his best not to clutch his brother too hard, though his fingernails dug into the blanket as he held his breath.

The Antichrist fussed, his face pressed against Gerard’s collarbone. He left a line of drool down the collar of his shirt.

Alpha groaned quietly, but other than that, they seemed unfazed with the new branding. Already, the magic of the sigil seemed to be taking effect as the auburn color of their hair melted into a muted brown, the opalescent shine of their eyes faded away to white scleras and deeper brown irises. The horns shrank down into their temples until they were gone completely, and their marbled grey skin flushed with a warmer, deeper tone of brown. The sharp, long points of their ears curled down into smaller curves. The thin, pointed tail vanished in the blink of an eye.

“Are you going to do that to me, too? Or him?” Gerard could feel a bead of sweat crawl down his forehead. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, and he couldn’t decide whether watching Alpha change like this was frightening or not. It’s not like their new visage was scary, just unexpected.

“No. Your human visage is easy enough to blend in with the rest of the world. Though, when you are older, I will be teaching you how to use powers of your own.” Alpha placed their hand over the bleeding brands and took a deep breath. Scar tissue closed over the wounds when he exhaled.

When the Antichrist began to fuss louder, Gerard set him down carefully in his lap. “Will I ever need to, um, get burned like that?”

“Branding is a choice,” Alpha explained. “Demons only give power that you’re willing to receive.”

Gerard let out a sigh of relief, then let his brother grab at his finger. “So...” The cold of the room, despite the fire, was starting to settle on his back, and he fought a shiver. “If we can’t go home, where are we gonna go? What about the Church?”

“Our Lord will still be with us, wherever we go. But it would be safer if we separate ourselves from the Church for now. Until we can guarantee you’ll be safe.” Alpha leaned back, stretching their new legs out. “Think of it like an extended holiday.”

“But we’re alone!” Gerard’s voice cracked. “And...and if we don’t have the Church, then we don’t really have anything.”

“We have faith. And you have your future.” Alpha shifted to sit in front of Gerard, and rested a warm hand on top of his head. Their nails were still sharp, though they were mindful not to scrape against his skin. “Things are going to be alright, we can get through this together. It’s not going to be easy, but you’ll survive. You’ll grow stronger as time goes on, and you’ll see your Papas again. And Copia.”

Sorrow coiled in Gerard’s gut, and he stared down once again at the half-asleep baby. He understood that they essentially had to start new lives, to hide. They were going to be  _ normal _ people, and that thought made his eyes sting again. It wasn’t fair that Lucifer was doing this to him. Gerard was supposed to be important. He was supposed to be  _ the _ most important Emeritus. But if this was the way it was going to be, he might as well have a say in it.

“I’m gonna give my brother a new name. A name Imperator’s never gonna guess.” His brow knotted in spite. “He’s going to be called Michael. The angel who battled Lucifer. She’d never find him.”

Alpha blinked. “...Well, that  _ is _ one way to divert attention, I suppose.”

Gerard smiled to himself. “Do you have to change your name, too? I never met anyone else called Alpha except for you.” Before the ghoul even had a chance to answer, Gerard took it upon himself to name him anyway. “Raymond. It’s Germanic, I read it in a book once when I got curious about where all the Siblings get their names from. It means protector. Though I think I like Ray...it’s got more fire to it. And you’re a fire ghoul.”

Alpha nodded. “Very well, Gerard. Thank you for the name.”

The smile was short-lived once he remembered his new future, and he sniffled hard. Pressing his palms up against his eyes, he sobbed as quietly as he could. He didn’t want to be caught crying, though it was proving difficult to hide it.

“It’s probably best that you rest some more.” Ray pulled Michael from his lap and held him in one arm, while their free hand grabbed the quilt from off the bed and draped it over Gerard’s shoulders. “When you wake up again, we’ll get moving. But for now, try to sleep.”

Gerard sniffled again, shuffling his body down so that his head rested right above Ray’s knee. It wasn’t his first choice of someone to be comforted by, but it was enough to sleep lightly through the rest of the night.

By the time his eyes opened again, it wasn’t Ray’s lap he found himself sleeping against. The familiar scent of Vadstena’s garden immediately overwhelmed his nose, though it calmed him. When he blinked, his vision slow to sharpen, he noticed he was still in the same room, though sunlight was now dancing idly over the old wallpaper. And above him, Primo’s wrinkled face gave him a tired smile. “Good morning, Gerard,” he murmured.

Gerard rubbed his face. “Primo?” he croaked, unsure if he was just seeing things.

“I came to make sure that you were alright. And I’ve found a place for you and your brother to take refuge. Alpha’s preparing for the journey over now, but I’ll let you wake up a little more.”

When he pushed himself to sit, he glowered. “So...you just came to say goodbye. Is that it?”

“Am I not allowed to?” Primo folded his hands in his lap, tilting his head. “Gerard, you are my nephew. The others are working hard to keep you safe, and they would be here if they could. They’d keep you at home, if they could. But that unfortunately cannot be.”

“I don’t wanna leave you.” Gerard kept his head bowed.

“Here, I brought you something--” Primo reached into his pocket and pulled out a Grucifix pendant on a chain, and placed it around Gerard’s neck. It was long enough to reach his stomach, but he didn’t seem to mind. “You wear that one with you always, and remember that you are with us. No matter where you are. I’ll let Alpha hold onto your brother’s until he’s old enough to wear it, okay? But don’t ever forget, you’re not alone.”

Ray entered the room. “The Antichrist is being fed right now, but aside from that, everything’s ready to go,” they announced.

“Where are we going?” Gerard asked, tensing up.

“America,” Primo answered. “Do you know about New York City?” Gerard took a moment to answer, but he nodded. “Well, it’s right around there. It’s time to be brave now, we know you can do this.”

Ray helped Gerard to his feet, smoothing his hair back. “Thanks again for everything. I’m relieved you’re alright, Papa.”

“Let us pray, then, before your departure.” Primo took Gerard’s hands, bowed his head, and shut his eyes. “We call upon Ziminar of the North, Amaymon of the East, Corson of the West, and Gaap of the south. May you always provide Gerard with the strength and guidance on his path, may you always provide our Messiah protection and power. We call upon our Lord and Master to provide His sons with what they deserve.”

“ _ Per aspera ad inferi. _ ” Gerard lifted his hand to make the devil’s gesture.

Primo smiled and nodded, lifting Gerard’s chin up to face him again. “Keep your faith steadfast. We’ll meet again.”

Gerard nodded back, though he was still scared of what would happen, but when Alpha placed a hand on his back and guided him out of the villa to join a Sister, Mikey safe in her arms. Alpha took the child, and with Gerard clinging to their hip, the sigil on their arm glowed bright and a ring of fire surrounded the three. Leathery wings sprouted from Ray’s back.

Primo waved them off before the fire shot up in a pillar, and they were gone.


	2. 1988

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard, Mikey, and Ray have been keeping as low of a profile as they can in the safety of New Jersey. Mikey makes a friend. Gerard is tired of his life. Ray's doing the best he can, but it only gets more complicated from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo the chapters are gonna be a bit longer from now on! more content! thanks so much to everyone who's read the first chapter so far, new uploads will probably be sporadic but my brain is having a hard time resting in between this so this might come out faster than i expect haha
> 
> quick squick warning in the first few paragraphs, there's mention of some creepy crawlies but it's p much over in one quick scroll.

Gerard woke up in a cold sweat. His body twitched, but he couldn’t find himself to sit up at first. His breaths were shallow as if his ribs were an iron cage, but the more he forced himself to relax, the more the tension ebbed away. His skin crawled with whatever remnants of his forgotten nightmare lingering on him, and he lifted his lead-heavy hands to rest against his face. When he finally found the strength to roll on his side, he sighed and looked to Mikey’s bed on the other side of the room.

The sheets and blankets were removed from the mattress, twisted together in a nest like Ray used to make when they were younger. But Mikey was missing from the pile.

“Shit,” Gerard grumbled, and forced himself to his feet. He stretched the atrophy out of his muscles before leaving the bedroom, and turned his head to search the nearly pitch black living room. There was hardly a sound, save for the ghoul’s low purr indicating deep sleep. There was no shifting, no movement in the darkness, though a creak from the other side of the short corridor made his head turn so fast his neck cramped.

“Mikey?” Gerard whispered, walking toward the back door. It was cracked open, the breeze playing with it. He opened it further to find Mikey standing somehow stiff and relaxed at the same time. It was way too cold in the season for the grass to be as green as it was, but when Gerard stepped out on the yard, he found the tiny tendrils attempting to wrap around his feet, almost as if they were slithering. The feeling was unpleasant.

Mikey’s back faced Gerard and his head hung low, and when Gerard stepped closer, he could see more than just the shifting of undead grass. A swarm of ants and worms crawled under his feet, feet that were hovering a few inches just out of the grass’s reach, as Mikey hummed a tune that Gerard hadn’t heard since his childhood. Gerard sighed heavily and took Mikey by the shoulders. “Dude, this is gross...” he mumbled, gently guiding Mikey back.

Mikey’s legs didn’t move, though his body shifted back just fine. When he slowly started to lift his head, he blinked and wheezed in deeply, turning to face Gerard. He lowered to touch earth again, and the vermin and grass started to calm. It seemed like a few blood vessels burst in his scleras, causing the white to turn red.  _ “Tollamque manum meam,” _ he muttered, his gaze blank as he stared at his brother,  _ “et iterum nusquam timere.” _

Gerard covered Mikey’s hands with his own, idly trying to blow warmth into them, despite knowing it wouldn’t work. It was also comforting just to hold them for a moment. As their skin touched, Gerard could feel faint pins and needles run down his fingers, but he ignored it. “It’s freezing out here, the neighbors are gonna see you,” he warned him. “You in there? Can you walk on your own?”

Mikey’s lashes fluttered, and he winced. “Gee, my head hurts.”

“Yeah, well, you were sleepwalking again. Welcome back to the world of the living.” Gerard stepped aside so he could nudge Mikey in the direction of the door. “Do you need some water or something? I’m gonna get you some anyway. Go sit at the table.”

Mikey disregarded Gerard’s order and hopped up on the kitchen counter instead, hissing slightly when Gerard turned on the light.

“Gerard? Michael?” a croak echoed from the other room.

“I got it, Ray,” Gerard quickly responded as he grabbed Mikey’s favorite Batman cup from the cabinet and held it under the tap. “No need to worry about it.”

Ray appeared in the doorway nevertheless, approaching Mikey to smooth a gentle hand over his dew-damp hair. “Sleepwalking?”

“Yeah.” Mikey chewed on his lip.

“Were you having visions or anything?” Ray glanced between the two of them.

“I don’t think so. I--” Mikey took the cup from Gerard and sipped the water slowly. “I felt...my chest was all tingly and there were a bunch of whispers in my head. Well, I dunno if they were whispers or...songs, maybe? The whispers had a nice sound to them...”

“He was humming a hymn,” Gerard added.

“Which one?” Ray pulled out a chair to sit.

“Uh...shit.” Gerard snapped his fingers until he remembered. “Death Knell.”

Ray gave a soft huff. “You never learned that one before, Michael. Do you remember where you heard it from? Do you know the words?”

Mikey shrugged. “The whispers, I guess.”

“Oh yeah, the lawn’s undead now, too.” Gerard crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the fridge.

Ray perked up. “Oh? That’s fascinating. It seems like the dead are reaching out to you, did it hurt at all?”

Mikey gulped down half his cup. “A little bit. But just because it was so much. I think they might have wanted something from me-- I-- everyone wanted something different. And then...I dunno. My arms and legs felt--”

“Like they were being pulled?” Gerard finished for him, almost as if someone else willed him to say the words. His eyes widened, but he shook his head. “I had a dream just like that before I woke up. Kinda.” Mikey looked back at him, both of them silently trying to make sense of it. “But the more I remember, the more I feel like it wasn’t such a good dream after all,” Gerard continued.

“It wasn’t bad for me...” Mikey rubbed his thumb around the plastic rim. “Just a lot.”

Ray nodded. “You both are safe, I’m sorry if your dreams frightened you. It’s probably best that you both get back to bed, though, you’ve got school in the morning.”

Both of them groaned.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Ray held their hands up in surrender. “But I need to look like a good guardian. Do you want social services coming around again?”

“Whatever.” Gerard rolled his eyes and trudged back to the bedroom. “Mikey’s fixing his own bed, though. Unless he’s starting to get permanent nesting instincts.”

Mikey stared down into his empty cup, frowning. “It’s cozy...”

Ray stood again and lifted Mikey’s chin. “I know. Look to the left for me,” they purred, and got a better look at his eye in the light. “If your teachers ask, what do you say?”

“I had another seizure.” Mikey’s shoulders sagged. “They get worried about me when I say that, though. I hate the way they look down on me. And then they say you’re not responsible, which makes me mad.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. It all comes with protecting someone as important as you.” Ray gave his cheeks a gentle squish before placing the cup in the sink. “Now, bed. I don’t want to have to tell you again, devil-child.”

Mikey finally hopped off the counter. “Goodnight, Ray.”

Ray nodded back to him, double checked the doors to make sure they were locked, and stayed up the rest of the night to make sure the rest of the night was quiet. When he sat back down on the sofa, he rolled his sleeve up and brushed his fingers over the sigils. “Thank you for giving him safety and guidance. May you always assure him of his path, and please help him adjust as easily as possible to his strength.  _ Per aspera ad inferi. _ ”

  
  
  
  


Gerard and Mikey, unexplainably, never needed an alarm to get up. Their body clocks had synchronized to waking around 6am every day, no matter how little sleep they’ve gotten. They had a decently standard routine: roll out of bed, say morning prayers, eat breakfast that Ray had already prepared for them, then Gerard would get dressed in the bathroom and pop a colored contact over his white eye while Mikey stayed in the bedroom.

Ray was waiting at that point by the front door with their coats, and after helping Mikey into his, they looked over his eye one more time.

“I’m fine, Ray. It doesn’t hurt or anything,” Mikey assured him, lowering Ray’s hand from his face. “Can we go now?”

Gerard let out a  _ tsk _ . “It’s gross how the Antichrist is such a morning person. Seems contradictory.”

Mikey scrunched his nose at his brother and practically bounced outside. It wasn’t going to school he was excited for, anyway. Next door, the neighbors also seemed to be getting ready for the day. A boy Mikey’s age in a Catholic school uniform under his winter jacket stomped out not as excitedly, listening to his mother fuss and smooth out wrinkles in his jacket as they walked.

“Hi, Frank!” Mikey called out, waving.

The boy hesitated to look over at first, but couldn’t hold back a smile for long. “Morning, Mikey. What happened to your--” was all he could get out before feeling the protective vicegrip of his mother on his arm. “Ow, Ma!”

“Honey, I told you not to talk to the Ways,” she muttered back.

Mikey could still hear her, and he stopped in the middle of the yard, his hand flopping in defeat beside him.

Gerard scoffed. “Catholics,” he grumbled. “I still don’t understand why we can’t just put a plague on their house or something. Serves them right for always fuckin’ calling DYFS on us. You know, my ancestors didn’t wage war on their church just so I can wake up every day to let them make our lives miserable.”

“Gerard.” Ray’s voice was heavy with warning.

Gerard flipped off Frank’s mother behind her back.  _ “Te futueo et caballum tuum.” _

“Paimon, give him wisdom...” Ray prayed under their breath as they walked behind them. “Get in the damn car, Gerard.”

Mikey flopped in the back seat, his eyes still watching Frank from a distance. After Ray and Gerard got in, he pressed the tip of his nose to the window. “Ray?” he muttered, “Are we bad people?”

“No, Mikes. People are just unnecessarily judgy sometimes, and it’s not fair. We  _ should _ be able to do something about it, though.” Gerard crossed his arms, staring pointedly at Ray.

“It’s not going to make our lives any easier expending effort in making  _ their _ lives worse.” Ray sighed. “It’s their fault that they look down on us, so they’re creating their own negative energy. Let them stew in it.”

That answer didn’t make Mikey feel any better. As the car pulled away, separating him and Frank even further, he just sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” Ray spoke up when he took notice of the sulking. “Frank seems like a nice kid.”

“Probably too late for him, though. Gotta train ‘em to get on their knees for God early, right?” Gerard muttered with a scoff. “Best just to forget him.”

Mikey scowled and side-eyed Gerard. Unlike anyone in his whole grade, Frank actually made an effort to talk to him. Not only that, Frank defied his parents and grandmother by talking to Mikey, which made the effort all that more meaningful. It annoyed him that Gerard or Ray didn’t seem to get it, though.

  
  
  


Gerard twisted a paperclip into a sharp edge so he could carve on the surface of his desk. He pressed his jaw into his hand as the other fleshed out little doodles of flames, doing his best to ignore the history lesson of the 14th century Holy Wars between the Roman Catholics and the Ghost Church. He already learned about these back when he lived in Sweden, and every detail that didn’t match his memory made him scowl. He could already hear the nagging voice of Ray in the back of his mind not to make a scene, so he only dug deeper into the hard plastic under his palm.

He also did his best to ignore the girl sitting next to him, staring with a half-lidded gaze while she twirled her dark hair. He huffed to himself seconds before the bell rang. “Thank you, Lucifer,” he whispered to himself before piling his books together and hurrying into the hallway. It seemed like he couldn’t hurry fast enough, though, because before his brain could even register it, there was a hand gripping the back of his hair, and half of his face was met with cold pain.

“You in a rush to get somewhere, goat fucker?” His name was Matt, because of course it was. Gerard didn’t remember or frankly care what sport he played, but despite his reputation, it didn’t give him the right to shove his face into a locker.

When Gerard jerked free of the grip, he already felt a warm stream crawl down from his nostril. He turned to stare back at him. “You’ve got a girl’s grip,” he responded, feeling the gazes of students passing by. His whole back collided against the metal door, pain shooting down from the back of his head to the base of his spine. Matt’s wrist was shoved up against Gerard’s throat.

“Wanna try sayin’ that again?” he barked.

The moment Gerard felt hands close to his throat, something in him jumped to life. Something red and vicious, and his whole body jerked against his hands. “Stop! Get the fuck off me!” he croaked as loudly as he could, catching more gazes. People started to crowd around and get a closer look as Gerard shoved him back. “Stay away from me.” The crowd began to murmur.

Matt grunted and grabbed the chain around Gerard’s neck, his other hand curling into a fist. “Think you’re so tough? Think the Devil’s on your side or something, freak?” The students around them started to get louder, though it was unclear what they were all saying.

Gerard grunted and ducked his head to bite his fingers and free himself. “Don’t you  _ dare _ fucking touch that!” He clutched the Grucifix hard and took a deep breath, trying to focus his anger. He didn’t want to use physical violence; his hidden eye was pulsing, a feeling he’d never felt before.

Within seconds, the crowd was in an uproar, shouting at Matt. It was if rage had overtaken them, pointing and screaming hateful names to the point where the color drained completely from his face. Gerard looked around at all of them in confusion, unsure how this happened. He glanced back at Matt, who went from angry to helpless in an instant, but he figured it was just best to get away and continue onto his next class before the teachers had to break up the mob.

As he passed by the principal’s office, one of the secretaries rose up from her seat and hurried to the doorway. “Gerard! Could you come back here?”

His eyes widened as he turned around.  _ Shit _ , they knew he started the mob, but he didn’t mean to. “What?”

“The elementary school just called. They said your brother had some sort of accident.”

Gerard stepped closer, his brow knotting. “What kind of accident?”

“They didn’t specify. They just said an ambulance was on its way, and your guardian wasn’t going to make it in time--”

Gerard nodded and left his books in the office before high-tailing it out of the building. Thankfully, Mikey’s school was only a few streets away, but it still took the wind out of him by the time he’d made it there. His nose was still dripping blood, which made breathing a little worse. Mikey and his teacher were waiting by the front door of the school while the rest of the class was being ushered back inside from recess. “Mikey...” Gerard panted.

His teacher kept him in the shade, seeing as his skin was burned wherever it was exposed. Most of it seemed like bad sunburn, but there were a few really bad looking blisters on his hands and neck that smoked a bit. Mikey looked up, tears covering his face, fear heavy in his eyes.

Gerard closed the distance between them just as the ambulance came, so there was no real time to get a word in or asked what happened. The EMTs did that for him, though Gerard did look back up at the teacher. “Where are his glasses?”

She handed him the crooked frames. “He dropped them when the burns came about, and he stepped on them.”

Gerard nodded with a sigh and pocketed them, and he hopped in the back of the ambulance after Mikey was loaded onto a stretcher, reaching out to hold his hand.

Mikey was trembling, shying away from the EMTs as they tried to examine him. “Am I gonna die, Gee?” he sobbed quietly.

Gerard shook his head. “No. You’re gonna be okay, we’re gonna find out what’s wrong and then me and Ray will take you home.” He kept his eyes fixed on Mikey’s face, the smell of all the medical supplies making him tense. The last thing he wanted, though, was for Mikey to see him nervous.

  
  
  


Ray showed up at the hospital an hour later, meeting Gerard in the waiting room. “What the hell happened?”

Gerard, holding a tissue under his nose, shrugged. “They said his skin just started...burning.”

“And you?” Ray asked, tipping Gerard’s chin up.

He swatted the hand away. “It’s nothing. I’m not the one who tried to spontaneously combust.”

Ray sighed and sat down beside Gerard, leaning forward with their face in their hands. “This is weird. With the sleepwalking last night, and the burns...this has to mean something,” they thought aloud.

“He’s gonna be fine. I doubt someone like him can perish so easily.” Gerard leaned back in his chair, sucking air between his teeth. “He’s probably just being a drama queen. Or maybe those dead spirits you mentioned before are back at it again.”

Ray hushed him harshly. “Shut up. People can hear you.”

As they waited in relative silence, in between Ray trying to ask Gerard about school and Gerard avoiding the subject, they both kept their eyes on the TV in the top left corner of the room. The sound was nearly muted, but there were closed captions on the bottom of the news channel. There was a small story on the upcoming awards season, and in any other situation, neither of them would have been interested.

Then again, not all awards shows apparently involved Terzo. There was his face, as bright as black and white could be on the screen. The subtitles were going just a tad too fast for Gerard to keep completely up with, but the story was something about Grammy nominations, and how this was the very first time Satanist songs were ever brought up.

“I guess he’s been writing new material...” Ray muttered, leaning forward until their elbows pressed against their knees.

The screen changed to a recording of angry protests, cross-wearing, red-faced crowds outside of the Recording Academy in California. Gerard fought to roll his eyes. “You didn’t know that there were new songs out?” he asked to try and keep himself somewhat distracted.

Ray bit their tongue. “Would it have mattered?”

“Maybe.” Gerard’s voice sharpened. He didn’t like the way it sounded as if Ray was lying to him. He hated secrets, especially when it came to the Church. Bitterness bubbled in the back of his throat for a plethora of different reasons, but now wasn’t the time to try and fight Ray about it.

  
  
  


They were stuck in the waiting room for another three hours before a doctor came out. “You’re with Michael?” he asked, and they nodded. He flipped through the chart in his hands. “You can come back and see him now.”

Ray was the first to hurry through, and smiled in relief at seeing Mikey awake and in relatively good spirits. “Hey, you scared me. Is everything alright?”

Mikey gave a tight-lipped smile, though the rest of his expression showed indifference.

“Mr. Way--”

“Toro, actually,” Ray corrected him. They spared half a second wondering if they should bother with the prefix as well, but they were more worried about Mikey. It wasn’t worth it this time. “Is he okay?”

“Well, considering Michael’s medical history, his seizures, wheat allergy, and now this...we still have some more tests to run, but it looks like he has lupus.”

Gerard raised a brow. He knew that was bullshit, but it was better to have some sort of medical excuse for being the heir to Hell. He ended up subtly rolling his eyes.

“So far,” the doctor continued, “this is an incurable condition. But there are treatments we could give him to battle the symptoms. We’d like to keep him overnight for observation, if that’s alright with you.”

Ray silently hesitated, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. “If...if there’s nothing that can be done to cure this, then I’d like to take him home as soon as possible. He’s more comfortable there.”

The doctor paused. “In order to give your son the best possible care, I’d really recommend he stay longer.”

Ray’s jaw clenched. Their lips parted to correct the doctor once again, that Mikey wasn’t their son--

“He’s going home.” Gerard spoke up instead, crossing his arms. The other staff turned their heads to look in his direction.

The rest of the staff lingering about nearby all turned their heads to look at the doctor. For a second, he looked terrified, the same look at Gerard recognized in Matt’s eyes earlier that day, but he nodded and re-checked his chart. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll write him a prescription as soon as I can, then he can be released.”

After the doctor left, Mikey frowned. “Does that mean I still have to go to school tomorrow?”

“No, Michael.” Ray eyed Gerard. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Gerard asked.

“You pretty much told the doctor to fuck off. And he... _ did _ .” Ray’s eyes shifted about the room, then they took a deep breath. “Oh.”

“What?!” Gerard snapped. He rubbed his eye lightly when it throbbed for a moment.

“Watch your tone,” Ray warned him. “We’ll talk about it later.”

When Mikey was released, they stood outside the car in the parking garage. Gerard leaned against the hood, arms crossed. “So. What gives, Ray?”

“Get in the car, Gerard.”

“You can’t keep us in the dark forever. I know you know what’s going on.”

Mikey got in the back seat and closed the door, pulling his knees up to his chest. Ray stared Gerard down, the driver’s door open. “Get in the fucking car. I’m not arguing with you here.”

“You might as well. Because I’m not getting in until you tell me why Mikey’s suddenly got Lupus. And you gave me a look earlier. On top of that, I have a feeling you were keeping us from the Church’s music.”

“You’re acting like a child.”

_ “You’re _ keeping secrets!”

“Don’t test me, I will leave without you.”

Gerard shifted his full weight onto his feet and held his arms out. “Go ahead, then! See if I care, Alpha.”

Veins bulged against Ray’s temples, and they got in the car and started the engine.

“Ray? Ray, what are you doing?” Mikey crawled to the window to look at Gerard.

“He can find his own way home, he’ll be fine.” Ray shifted the gear into drive and took off. “Stay away from the windows, Michael. We don’t want you getting any more burns.”

“Ray! Wait!” Michael pressed his hands against the windows as he watched an angry Gerard shrink in the distance. He’d tried to chase the car, but it was no use. “Why did you leave him behind?”

“I don’t have the patience for him right now, he’s old enough to get home safely. He’s done it before.” Ray’s voice softened. “I have some good news, though. You two are growing more attuned to your power.”

  
  
  
  


Gerard got home a quarter to 10 at night. He hardly got two steps in before Mikey raced forward and hugged him tight. Gerard sighed and pat him on the head. He smelled heavily of cigarettes, prompting Mikey to wonder how he’d even got a hold of any, let alone got away smoking in public at his age. “Feelin’ any better?”

“Yeah, m’fine,” Mikey croaked, his words muffled in Gerard’s chest. His fingers clutched at Gerard’s ratty Repugnant hoodie. “I was afraid you were never gonna come home again.”

“Mikey, that’s ridiculous. You know I’m your protector.” Gerard gently nudged Mikey’s shoulder’s back to get a good look at him. Mikey’s face was still wrinkled in a few places from the burns. “There’s no way I’d leave you.”

Mikey smiled with exhaustion. “Yeah, well. You’ll never guess what. We’ve tapped into our natural-born abilities, apparently. I don’t really know what mine are...Ray said something about drawing energy out of people, living or dead...they kinda made everything sound really weird. But they also said that the sun has something called...radiant energy. Guess I’m allergic to that, too.”

“You’re allergic to the  _ sun?  _ That sucks.”

“Only sometimes. When I use the other energy I just told you about.” Mikey raised his hands to look at them.

Gerard stared back at Mikey, and he bit his tongue. “Cool.” Finally, he veered off and headed to the kitchen. “Where is Ray, anyway?”

“Backyard. They were waiting for you to get home so they could go out.”

“What? Where the fuck do they have to go this time of night?” Gerard pulled Mikey’s broken glasses from his pocket to set them down on the counter, then started sifting through the fridge.

“I dunno. They didn’t tell me.”

From the window, Gerard could already see Ray walking around the house and over to the car. He sneered at them and pulled out frozen hamburger patties. “Did he say anything about me?”

“Yeah. They were talking about the other Emerituses. Ray said they have this special thing called influence, and they use it every ritual or something. It has something to do with the crowd, and he made it sound like hypnosis, but Ray told me it’s not the same thing. Influence doesn’t make people blind. I dunno, once he started using bigger words, I kinda dropped out of it.”

Gerard stared at the microwave blankly, and grunted at Mikey’s ramble. “You should probably go to bed. You had a long day.”

Mikey groaned. “Please, can I stay up? Can we watch movies? Ray said I didn’t have to go to school tomorrow, so I don’t need to be up early. Please, Gee?”

“Fuck, okay. Sure.” Gerard sighed and pulled the hamburger out of the microwave, eating it without anything else. “Go pick out your favorites.”

Mikey hopped in place before running off to grab his favorite blankets first, then pulled out a drawer under the TV and scoured around until he found Suspiria and Sleepaway Camp. He made himself a lump on the couch, and when Gerard finally joined him with a glass of water, he leaned against his side until he eventually dozed off.

  
  
  


The next morning, Ray took Gerard to school. On the ride over, the silence was tense for the first few minutes, as was to be expected. Gerard’s arms were tight over his chest, and he stared forward like he was trying to set the road ahead of them on fire with his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Terzo’s music. You should have some sort of connection to the Church, and the hymns are usually the most harmless option.” Ray sighed.

“Where’d you go last night?” Gerard asked, pulling his foot up to press against the glove compartment.

“Newark. I had to meet someone.” Ray didn’t need to look over at Gerard to realize they were being stared at, waiting for more information. “Omega. I was meeting with Omega.”

“You’ve been in contact with other ghouls?!” Shock overcame Gerard, and part of him wanted to be angry, but the feeling never came. Only confusion.

Ray’s jaw clenched. “It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes they check up on us when it’s safe--”

“Oh, so Mikey and I aren’t allowed to go within ten miles of a church, but you are?!” Gerard cut them off, feeling the anger finally crawl forward. “That’s bat shit. What does Imperator think about that? Is she even a problem anymore?”

As much as Ray didn’t want him to worry about such things, it was useless trying to avoid it now. “She’s running a tight ship. The amount of followers has increased at a higher rate than they’ve seen in decades, and they’ve taken over as the dominant religion in Australia.” The car slowed down to a stop in front of the school, and silence took over them again.

Gerard sat there, stunned, and finally shook his head. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Things wouldn’t be the same if she killed you,” Ray tried to reason with him.

“Because they need the psycho bitch so much that they’re willing to forgive her of attempted assasination?”

“They need you, too!” They reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder.

Gerard slapped the hand away. “I’D LIKE TO SEE SOME FUCKING EVIDENCE!” Biting his tongue so hard it nearly bled, Gerard leaned forward until his forehead pressed against his knees. He wanted to scream, if he wasn’t parked right outside the school. He wasn’t mad at Ray, and he figured it was better just to take the exploding sourness away from him before they got into another, more useless argument. He slammed the car door hard after he got out, knowing the day was already going to be worse than usual. Or maybe he’d just skip later to avoid it all.

  
  
  
  


As the days got longer and the weather warmed up, Mikey was more careful when it came to being outside. It wasn’t much fun that he wasn’t allowed outside for recess or gym anymore, but there were days when he got to stay home. He loved spending the day with Ray, because Ray was eerily nice to the neighbors and the door-to-door missionaries. Mikey liked to pretend it was a game that he called ‘Perfect Neighbors’.

Mikey got really excited on the day he realized he was home sick the same time as Frank. He sat in the kitchen wearing Gerard’s Repugnant hoodie and ripped sweatpants, rambling about how Frank’s a vegetarian while Ray stirred a pot of soup, just nodding along to whatever he said. Every so often, they’d toss in a handful of seasoning while muttering some language Mikey couldn’t recognize.

“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Ray asked as they pressed the lid down against the tupperware container. “I know we only should be outside for a few minutes, but I know how much the burns hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine! Please, I just wanna see Frank,” Mikey whined as he pulled the hood up. “See? Sun-free. Besides, with the position it’s in, Frank’s house should block it out if we stand at the front door. I’ll be fine, Ray!”

“Okay, okay. Let’s go be perfect neighbors.” Ray ruffled Mikey’s messy bangs.

Mikey had to hold himself back from running to Frank’s front door. He kept his hands in the hoodie sleeves, letting them flop loosely around as he stuck by Ray’s side once they stepped out and crossed the yard. Ray knocked on the door, smiling down at Mikey.

A stocky woman with braided salt-and-pepper hair answered, immediately eyeing Ray up and down. A pale, vaguely sweaty Frank peeked out from behind her back, his eyes lightening up. “Mikey! What’re you doin’ over here?”

“Hey! Michael and I heard Frank wasn’t feeling well, so we thought we’d send over a little pick-me-up,” Ray beamed.

“It’s vegetable soup!” Mikey added.

“Nonna, maybe they could stay for a few minutes...?” Frank squeaked. He stepped closer to the door, but was held back by a stocky arm.

“Frankie,  _ piccolino, torna a letto. Sei malato. _ ” She nudged him away from the door.

“It’s alright. We didn’t mean to bother you. Just a friendly gesture.” Ray held the soup out to the old woman.

She inhaled deeply, and accepted the tupperware with a nod. “A friendly gesture,” she repeated. “God bless you.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Ray nodded back to her.

“ _ Spero tu ti senta meglio, _ ” Mikey told Frank, making both his and the grandmother’s eyes boggle. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I hope so. Uh,  _ grazie _ , Ray.” Frank covered his mouth when he coughed.

Ray grinned. “No problem! Always happy to help out.”

The grandmother hummed and gave one more nod before closing the door.

Mikey and Ray shared a look and Ray pat Mikey gently on the back. “A job well done, you think?” they asked.

Mikey gave a half-nod, half-shrug. “I think we were perfect enough. I mean, she took the soup.”

Ray chuckled. “Come on, let’s get you back inside before you fry up.”

Mikey giggled and ran back to the house, hurrying into the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of the leftover soup. He took it to his bedroom and sat on Gerard’s bed, which was by the window, and he made extra sure not to get hit by the sunbeams as he waited for Frank to show up beside his own kitchen window.

They both smiled at each other as they ate, despite not being able to be near each other, they could at least share moments like this. And thankfully, Frank’s room was right above the kitchen, which meant they could still talk to each other from a distance after they were done eating. With both their windows open, the fresh air felt nice against their faces.

“So what are you sick with anyway?” Mikey asked, his chin pressed into his palm.

“Flu. Boring, I know.” Frank rolled his eyes. “Still got that werewolf thing?”

“It’s not a werewolf thing!” Mikey snickered. “But yeah. Still got dumb ol’ lupus. It would be really cool if I  _ was _ a werewolf, though.”

“Werewolves are just evil dogs. What if you could just, like, turn into a regular wolf? They’re just as cool.”

Mikey covered his face with his hands. “That’s literally the same thing, Frank. ‘Were’ means man. Werewolf is just a man turning into a wolf, oh my god.”

“Okay, sorry, Mister I-know-every-word-ever.” Frank scoffed. “I didn’t know you knew Italian, by the way. When did you learn?”

“Oh, uh...” Mikey scratched his chin. “Ray’s been teaching Gee and me. Guess it kinda runs in the family.”

Frank raised a brow. “Aren’t you guys Swedish?”

Mikey stammered. “O-our family is...pretty vast.” He shrugged, glancing away as he fiddled with the chain around his neck.

“Hey, that’s really cool.” Frank smiled for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder. “You know what Nonna calls you? You know what a  _ malocchio _ is?”

The corner of Mikey’s mouth twitched. “I’ve heard of it before. It’s not a good thing, right? It’s like, bad energy or something?”

“Yeah.”

“Why does she hate us?” Well, Mikey knew the real reason why, or at least he could suspect, but it’s not like Mikey had ever put a curse on her or anything. All he wanted to do was be friends with Frank.

“I mean, besides those times where you sleepwalk into our yard?” Frank chuckled. “And your brother’s kind of a jerk. Other than that, I really don’t know. I try to keep telling her you’re not bad, but she doesn’t listen to me. She thinks she knows better.”

Mikey pressed his forehead against the windowsill and blew a raspberry.

“I know. But hey...it could be worse,” Frank said as cheerily as he could.

“Could be better, though,” Mikey groaned.

Frank laughed quietly. “But it could be worse. Whatever Ray put in that soup is making me feel better already, so give him an extra thanks for me, would you?”

When Mikey lifted his head up, he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

From a distance, a car pulled up to the driveway. “Oh, I think my dad’s home. I should probably pretend I’m asleep or something before he catches us. He’d tell Nonna, and then she’d get mad.”

Mikey stuck his head out the window for a second to get a better look.   
  
“Dude!” Frank hissed.

“Sorry. Uh...bye, then.” Mikey closed his window and flopped back on Gerard’s bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn’t want to feel gross inside about not being able to have Frank as a real friend, but this situation sucked. It sucked even more that he couldn’t do anything about it, and so he just curled up on his side and sank deeper into the oversized hoodie.

  
  


By the time Gerard got home, the house had grown quiet. Almost eerily so, to the point where he was sure he could hear something in the walls skittering about. “Mikey...” he thought aloud, and dropped his backpack to rush to the bedroom. His heart leapt in his throat, seeing Mikey sprawled out on his bed with his head in Ray’s lap. His back was slightly arched, lips parted, though it didn’t seem like he was breathing. “What’s he doing? Why does he look like that?”

Ray gently held their hands on either side of Mikey’s head. “He’s channeling something, though I’m not sure what.” The walls gave a low groan.

“Is he doing it on purpose?” Gerard sat down beside Mikey’s body and took his icy cold hand to squeeze it.

“I don’t know,” Ray admitted. “This started ten minutes ago.”

_ “Veni propius,” _ Mikey whispered, tugging on Gerard’s hand. When Gerard leaned over Mikey’s face, Mikey pressed his index and middle finger against the center of Gerard’s forehead, and his limbs felt like they were stuffed with lead. It was like the only thing that kept his body upright was Mikey’s force of will.

The voices of the Papas screamed in his skull, all overlapping each other. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the feeling of their voices was somehow familiar. Prayers, they  _ felt _ like prayers, but the noise was overwhelming that they blocked out Gerard’s conscience. Flashes of images came next, appearing long enough for Gerard to recognize what they were, but not enough to remember each one that passed through his vision. Terzo was there, assumedly leading a ritual. The next second, there was a full-length mirror with the image of a winged wolf with drool like lava dripping from its maw. A glass coffin, no,  _ three _ , then a heavily tattooed man driving a stake down into flesh. The screaming gave way to what he swore sounded like his own voice, but different. Older, maybe. The echoes of a crowd joined in melodically.

“Gerard!” Ray called out to him when he started coming back to his senses.

Mikey was whining with panic. Gerard’s eyelids fluttered, and he breathed in sharply. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, is...is he dead?” Mikey rambled, clutching the edge of the bed as he stared down at his brother on the floor.

Gerard’s eye felt like it was on fire. He hissed, and reached up to pull his contact off as quickly as he could. Ray took it off his finger. “I’ll put this in the bathroom,” they offered as they stood up.

“Gee!” Mikey called out, reaching for his hand. “Gee, please, I’m so sorry--”

“The fuck just happened...?” Gerard groaned, pushing himself to sit up. “Did you just pull your demon shit on me?”

“I couldn’t control it!” Mikey finally crawled off the bed to hug Gerard tight. “I was so scared that I killed you. I swear, I’ll never do it again.”

Gerard sighed and nudged Mikey off of him. “I’m fine. You can’t kill me, devil-child.” When Ray returned, they pulled him back onto his feet, and he needed an extra second to find his balance.

“The whole house shook for a second, there. Thought it was an earthquake, but nobody outside seems to have taken notice.” Ray urged Gerard to sit down again. “What happened to you?”

“Might’ve visited purgatory for a second. So much happened at once, I can’t really make sense of it.” Gerard pushed his hair back. “But, uh, I’m back now. And I feel fine...ish.” His skin was still crawling with the uncomfortably familiar touch of ghostly hands. “I think I need a shower.” Ray made sure he could stand and walk on his own, and once Gerard seemed alright, he locked himself in the bathroom.

  
  
  


It turned out that Terzo was making a tour around North America, and one of his first stops was going to be in Newark. Gerard stared at the poster in a record shop until his eyes went dry from lack of blinking, and he had to fight the urge not to tear it from the wall and take it home. He could hear Ray’s voice in the back of his head, already telling him that he was forbidden to go, but there was nothing on this mortal plane that could stop him from seeing Papa this time. Especially since Mikey’s vision still floated around in his mind. It had to mean something important.

“I’ve got a group project I need to work on, so I’ll probably be home late,” he told Ray, keeping his face turned down so they wouldn’t see that his eye was unhidden.

Ray tensed. “Telling me on pretty short notice, aren’t you?”

“Sorry.” Gerard shrugged; clearly he didn’t mean it. “The grade’s apparently a hefty chunk of the semester, so it’s kind of important. I’ll be fine. Anyway...see ya.” He pulled the door open and hurried out before Ray could get another word in.

On the train ride over, he kept his eyes down on his hands. Part of him felt nauseous. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched with every step he took, and when the train reached the station, he couldn’t help but keep a steady eye out for any gazes pointed his way. It was really the first time since he could remember leaving the house without his contact. It was exposing, like everyone could automatically recognize who he was.

He tried against all his mental might that it was a good thing. Terzo and the Ghouls were closer than ever, and he  _ wanted _ to be noticed by them. He just wanted to be remembered, to be told that this stupid mission that feels eight years overdue still had some sort of meaning, because Lucifer knows that Ray hadn’t been much help in that regard.

It was a long walk through the parking lot, passing by eager followers and nervous newcomers. Gerard only felt exposed around them; they weren’t the people he wanted to be noticed by, so he kept his head down and just let his feet take him as fast as they could without looking suspicious around to the back of the massive building. He knew he shouldn’t have needed to sneak around, he should have been part of the fucking entourage, been protected by the ghouls and Siblings of Sin instead of the shit life he’d been living. He should have been allowed to roam free and comfortable backstage beside the ever adored Papa Emeritus. He should, but he’s not.

At least not yet.

Gerard’s plan wasn’t without its faults. Clearly, there were security guards who spotted him roaming near unloading buses and trucks, and he did his best to dodge them. It worked for a few minutes until one of the guards grabbed him by the arm. Gerard’s first instinct was to look him straight in the eye and shout, “Let go of me!”

More eyes started to turn to him. The guard held him firm, muttering about how he wasn’t allowed to be back here, and Gerard did his best not to blow it out of proportion. Instead, he just pleaded back, quietly enough to keep the attention of a line of Sisters walking by. He didn’t actually want the guard to get hurt. “I’m sorry, I just-- this is really important. I need help.” He tried looking at the guard directly, and managed to get him tense and wide-eyed. “Let me pass. It’s vital that I see Papa Emeritus.”

He hadn’t noticed the Sisters had stopped in their path until one broke out of the line. Her expression caught Gerard’s attention first, then her features came into focus. Bright hazel eyes, a smile of relief that seemed to make him forget everything wrong in the world for a few short moments, and yet there was an unshakeable chill heavy in the base of his spine.

“Mom?” he asked, his voice cracking. He wanted to be happy to see her, but the last time he’d looked up to her, it was her face stuck to his memory while the life was being choked out of him. He knew now that it wasn’t  _ actually _ her, which made him curse his mind all the more for still being unable to look upon her face with any amount of fear. But this had to be her now, the real her, and she looked so much smaller now than he remembered. Not frailer, just smaller.

“He’s with me,” Sister Madonna told the guard, dismissing him. “I thought that was you, Gerard...” Her free hand reached up to stroke his cheek and tuck his hair behind his ear. This was definitely her. “Why did you come here? It’s dangerous, there are people here that could very well mean you harm.”

“I just came here to see Papa,” Gerard answered, clearing his throat when his voice still wavered. “Heard he’s been getting popular as of recent, so thought I’d check up on him.”

Her smile tapered off. “Oh, Gerard. I don’t really know if that’s such a good idea. Papa’s busy--”

“Too busy for me?” Gerard squeezed his mother’s hand.

She fell quiet, then glanced over her shoulder. “Come with me. There are some things I should tell you about. Keep your head down, try not to be noticed.” She guided him to an empty bus, keeping him as close to her side as she could. As they got on, she sat him down on one of the middle benches, and took up the seat across the aisle. “Oh, look at you.  _ Så snygg _ . I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you doing well.”

Gerard shrugged. “Well is one way to put it. I’m, uh, alive.” His mouth twisted on the thought of whether he should trust her enough to talk about Mikey, and decided to keep him out of it. “Okay, well, maybe things are pretty good. Not as good as they could’ve been if I stayed at the Church, but...” He rolled his eyes.

“I know, I can imagine it’s been hard on you and your brother.” Her eyes searched for any hint of her second son.

Gerard scratched the back of his head. “I...I gotta admit, I’m surprised you’re alive. After what happened, I didn’t know if Imperator--” He turned his face away, brow knotted hard as he inhaled deeply. The unpleasant thoughts stung more than he expected.

Her shoulders tensed. “That was a difficult night. I was blacked out for most of it, and woke up in the infirmary to everyone frantic. Imperator was trapped in a seal, so I was told, and I remember hearing that you and the Antichrist escaped. Secondo told me, and promised me that you would be safe. Nihil had to be put in observation for a while after he tried to free Imperator, and there was a trial and everything. She was accused and tried for attempted assassination, but pretty much put under house arrest. I don’t think she’s stepped out of the Church since then.”

He nodded. “So she hurt you, too?”

“Not enough to get rid of me.” She chuckled. “Our Lord has a plan for me, and I’m glad He decided that we could see each other again. Especially in these hard times.”

“Hard times?” he asked. “Why, what’s been going on?”

She took his hand, her thumb slowly rubbing over his knuckles. “It’s just been a little tense. We have more followers than ever, praise Lucifer, but...Terzo’s been in a little bit of hot water with the rest of the Papas. His music has some troubling messages, doubtful messages about whether or not faith is really necessary. Primo isn’t happy about it, and Nihil and Secondo are trying to overlook it.”

“So what exactly does that mean for him?”

“I don’t know, Gerard. Hopefully things will even out more in the near future, but nobody can tell what’ll happen.”

He slouched against the seat. “You got that right...”

She sighed, smiling sadly as she moved to sit directly next to him. “Things will get better for you, I know they will,” she murmured, moving his head to rest on her shoulder. “Here, let me promise you this. I can get you into the congregation tonight, but you have to be careful. Can you promise me that?”

His brow quirked. “Will I be able to talk to Papa?”

“You can watch him from the curtains.”

“But--” He bit his tongue. “--will he know I’m here? Does he even care about me anymore?”

Sister Madonna hugged him tight and pressed gentle kisses against his scalp. “Of course he does. He’s always praying for you, and he’s tried countless times to try and find any way he could to check up on you. Secondo and Primo have, too. They love you so much.”

Gerard swallowed. He could feel the threat of tears in the back of his eyes, then shut them and inhaled deeply. “I just wish it was easier to feel their love. It’s been so lonely, Mom.”

“You’ve never been alone. I know it may feel like it, but we’ve never forgotten you. You’ve been so brave so far. It’ll pay off sooner than you expect, Gerard.”

“Just take me and Mikey home. Our real home--” Gerard caught himself, and huffed at his mistake. He couldn’t take it back.

Her own face had grown damp instead, and she stroked his back. “If I could,  _ älskling _ , I would. Believe me. But I’ll give you what I can tonight. Come on.” Drying her eyes with her bat-wing sleeve, she helped Gerard back on his feet and led him back outside.

She found him a press pass so security wouldn’t question him about being backstage, and found him a place off-stage to watch the performance. The audience had already gathered in waiting, and he was watching all the crew run around and prepare everything.

“Alright, I have to get in my place. Stay here until I come back for you, okay? Be good.” She pet his hair one last time, smiling sadly.

“Yeah. Thanks again for everything, I probably would’ve been in deep shit without you.” He chuckled.

She nodded, and stepped backwards at first. It was hard to look away from him, but eventually she turned and disappeared behind a doorway.

Gerard’s heart was pounding when he realized he was alone again, but alone in the sense that he was in a completely unfamiliar place without anyone that he trusted in sight. Hugging himself, he just kept his eyes on the stage until the lights dimmed and fog started hissing out over the floor.

Two ghouls passed him by, and he quickly turned his head away before either of them noticed him, and he exhaled shakily when the first song started. The audience was alive with cheer and praise, and Gerard could understand why when Terzo appeared at the top of the stage steps.

He was a stunning vision in his black and purple robes; the regalia was a lot more vivid than on TV, and even more so than from his memory. And when he opened his mouth and let his voice wash over the followers, Gerard suddenly had an understanding of what he was born to do. What he was just starting to learn. He had the power within him to grab the hearts of the masses if he wanted to, and watching Papa at work was inspiring. Every time he would ask, “Are you with us?” Gerard wanted to say yes every time, even if he knew that that wasn’t quite the truth. Not for him, anyway.

The part that really tugged at Gerard’s heart, unexpectedly, was during Absolution.  _ “Even now, when you are here, you are moving, hysterically seeking out what needs improving. And still, you’re asking for the sun--” _

Terzo’s face turned to the side, and they saw each other. Gerard could feel it like lightning, like time stopped for just one second, and Terzo almost missed his next cue into the chorus from the shock. But, like a professional, he continued on until the guitar solo, when they looked at each other again. Gerard wanted nothing more to run out only for the sole purpose of embracing him, but he stood still.

He flinched when he felt Sister Madonna’s hand once more, the line of Sisters waiting patiently at their place with goblets of wine and eucharists for the crowds, and the line between Gerard and Terzo felt snapped.

“You alright?” she asked.

Gerard swallowed hard and nodded, but he stepped back a few feet so he could catch his breath. After the Sisters had walked out, he hugged himself and turned his back to the stage. Whether Terzo had actually recognized him or it was just the swell of the crowd’s adoration infecting him, he still couldn’t tell.

Anxiousness crept up and clung to him with the uncertainty of the crowd’s energy, and Gerard finally decided to step back. In the small chance that he was providing to be some sort of distraction, he knew that wouldn’t bode well with what he’d been told already. He left the stage altogether and started wandering around the back hallways, dodging staff members and other members of the Church. He only stopped when he saw a door labeled Papa Emeritus III.

Turning back, he made sure nobody saw him before he hid away inside the room. The air was sweet with the scent of white roses and snapdragons, both of which were overflowing on the makeup table. There were also stacks of books and various open trunks full of neatly folded black clothes, the floor had an overlay of black and white tiles similar to the stage, though the one thing that really caught Gerard’s eye was the papal hat, standing front and center among the flowers.

As he stepped further into the room, a few candles dispersed around mostly empty shelves lit up on their own, and he jumped upon hearing the gust of wind the candles all lurched out simultaneously when the flames came forth. “Cool...” he muttered, and pulled the chair out to sit and stare at the hat, then at himself in the mirror behind it, then down at the face paint that was left out.

Gerard dreamt of this more times than he could count. To be preparing for a wave of devout followers eager to see  _ him, _ to hear  _ his _ word. He had grease paint at home and when he’d first arrived in America, he’d spent nights out of Ray’s watchful eye, knelt over the bathroom sink, practicing different looks for when he would eventually return home.

These were not just some Halloween grease paints, though. As Gerard’s fingers ran over the brushes scattered out between the paint pots, he wondered if Terzo did his own face, or trusted someone else to do it for him. Gerard’s fingers stopped over a clean sponge, and temptation clutched at his heart as he picked it up. He cracked open a water bottle to get the white paint damp and stared at himself again in the mirror.

It was easy enough putting the white on as the base; it was just a matter of making sure it was even throughout. When he got to the black, though, that’s where he needed to be precise with lines. He started with the eye sockets first, two big black circles just stretching up over his eyebrows, and he opted for vertical lines over his lips, instead of filling in the upper one with black like Terzo did. He filled out the tip of his nose, choosing more of a rectangular shape, but the lines he curved over his jaw and under his cheekbones were soft and fluid. He colored under his chin black as well, and turned his head to stare at his neck. It wasn’t a bad place to write a meaningful word, but he couldn’t pick one off the top of his head.

By the time the paint was finished, he sat back and glanced between his reflection and the hat. He reached out to touch it, the pointed to, the embedded crystals that shaped the Grucifix, but he couldn’t bear to put it on. It wasn’t his place to, not yet. But being in the presence of it made his heart swell with pride. He was so wrapped up in yearning to go home that he must have moped a mile in the air when the door opened so suddenly, yet so calmly.

Gerard turned with a gasp, wide-eyed, to see Terzo staring back at him. “I thought I saw you, but I couldn’t have been sure,” the Papa thought aloud. He closed the door behind him as Gerard stood. “You’ve grown up so much,  _ mio figlio _ .”

Gerard found himself at a loss at what to do. His breath shook violently in his lungs, but he tried to keep himself quiet out of what he was sure was embarrassment. He couldn’t believe himself; after building up his confidence all day in preparation to face him, now he found himself speechless.

Terzo closed the distance between them and gently pressed his palms under Gerard’s jaw, smiling softly. “You look just like Nihil when he first took up the papacy. It’s a very good look for you.”

Tears immediately filled Gerard’s eyes, smiling shakily back. “I can’t believe you’re here. Th-that I’m here. I was scared that you didn’t wanna see me.”

“I am most happy to see you, but it was very risky of you to have made it over here. Especially by yourself,” Terzo told him.

“Alpha never would’ve let me go if they knew. They were too paranoid, but I’m okay. This is okay, right?” Gerard lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, then stopped himself at the last second. He’d hoped the tears didn’t make the paint drip. “Papa, I’m ready to go back home. The Antichrist is safe, he’s doing well and discovering his power, and I know he’d only get the help he needs to take his rightful place if we just go home. All of us.”

Terzo’s shoulders sagged. “Things aren’t safe for you just yet.”

“But it’s been eight years!” Gerard shook his head. “How much longer do you need?”

“Sister Imperator holds one of the highest powers in the Church, Gerard, and she’s helped to skyrocket our number of followers. On top of that, well...” Gerard waited impatiently, though it was strange to see him stumble on his words. “...she’s a very strong individual. It’s not like we could just send her away.”

“She tried to kill me!” he reminded him.

Terzo sighed and his hands fell to his shoulders. “Vadstena hasn’t been the same without you. But I promise, the second it is safe for you, you’ll know.”

Gerard rolled his eyes and took a step back. “So you  _ are _ choosing her over me. Y’know, I expected as much from Primo or Secondo, but I thought you were the one that actually cared enough about me.”

“You sure have your father’s fire...” Terzo lowered his gaze. “I know it’s difficult to understand the situation, and I’m sorry you haven’t found happiness. You are with us, always.”

Gerard desperately wanted to roll his eyes, but something about hearing the solidness of that statement did give him some comfort. “Okay...okay. Fine.”

“Good.” A short silence filled the room as they collectively caught their breaths and cast the tension away. At least, until Terzo looked back to the door. “I’m afraid we have to cut our time short now. I’ve summoned Alpha to take you back home.”

“Papa!” Panic seized Gerard immediately.

“It’ll be alright.” He stepped back to open the door again, and a ghoul with the iconic silver mask and black uniform embellished with the elemental symbols waited on the other side. Gerard could tell it was Ray from the color of their hands.

At that point, Gerard wanted to get out of there in some sort of attempt to quell his frustration. He’d rather run back to the train station or just walk across the bridge so he could breathe, but his options seemed very limited. “Whatever. Guess I’ll see you whenever you feel like showing up again.”

“Gerard...” Terzo reached out to touch his arm, but he’d moved away too quickly.

“Tell Sister Madonna that I’m glad she’s doing okay. And if anything happens to her, there’s gonna be consequences.” Gerard stormed out of the dressing room. Ray gave a small bow to Terzo before catching up to Gerard. They passed by other ghouls who were lingering in the hall after hearing who was lurking about, but nobody said anything to each other. They all just shared knowing looks, looks of warning, before finding their way back outside.

  
  
  


Gerard slammed the car door once he was inside, and clutched tightly at his sides. His ears were ringing so loud, he wanted to drown in the shrill tone and leave this night behind him.

Ray sat down in the driver’s seat and slowly removed the ghoul mask, staring down at it once it was in their hands.. Their expression was unreadable, half due to the lack of light. 

Gerard’s nails dug into his own skin. “Okay, well, might as well get the lecture overwith. Hit me with it.”

“I don’t have a lecture for you, Gerard.” they promised him with a sigh.

“What, you’re not going to scream at me? I disobeyed the rules, I made myself known to the Papas. You have to have something prepared for me.” Gerard bristled.

“Did you do it solely for the sake of spiting me? Because that’s how you’re making it sound.” Ray kept their voice quiet and somber.

Gerard folded his legs up against his chest as tightly as he could. “No,” he muttered, glaring out the windshield. He could feel the tears start up again, hot and heavy. “They don’t want me back. I don’t even know if they ever did, if they ever gave a shit. They only care about their own fucking popularity.”

Ray gently placed the mask in the backseat and started up the car. “They’re caught between a rock and a hard place. Can’t have a religion without followers, and the Emerituses can’t continue on without a lineage. Why do you think there haven’t been any other children after you?”

Gerard finally wiped his hands down his face, not caring about the makeup anymore. He was sick of looking at himself through the side mirror. “I’m so tired. I’m tired and my head is screaming at the same time and...” He took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. “Maybe I’ll just start writing my own stuff. Songs. I’m gonna prove to them I’m still worthy, then finally they’ll get their heads out of their asses and let us go home.”

“I’m relieved that you’re okay,” Ray added in. “All I’ll say was that you did put yourself in some bad danger. But you’re unharmed. And I encourage you to start writing. It’s usually about time when the Papas start picking that talent up.”

Gerard pressed his head back as hard as he could into the headrest and watched the streetlights go by in a blur. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, he’d just occasionally sniffle and groan the rest of the ride back home. He got lost in his own headspace, a song already half-written in his head by the time they pulled up to the driveway. He smirked upon deciding it would be called The Ghost Of You.

  
  
  


Something within him snapped after seeing Terzo again. In school, from then on, Gerard had a strange confidence to him that turned heads. He was careful not to stir any trouble of his own, and not all eyes looked upon him in a friendly way. But he was still effortlessly demanding attention with his eye, and he was going to use it to his advantage.


	3. 1994

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Gerard graduated highschool, he's grown very comfortable with his influence, but he's still trying to figure out what exactly he wants to do with it. He knows he's supposed to recruit followers for the Church, but he's getting mixed signals from his prayers. Mikey and Frank grow closer, but it's putting a strain on Frank's faith. Ray finally has a chance to do what they were brought to this mortal plane to do again.
> 
> On top of all that, danger is creeping around the bend for the Ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick content warning: the creepy crawlies come back for a single line, sorta blink and you miss it type thing. there's gonna be some body horror toward the end, eye stuff specifically, there's mentions of gender & sexuality misunderstanding that doesn't quite get resolved? a tiny bit of blood magic, a minor character death by cancer, but i think that's it
> 
> hope you like it!

Mikey laid back in the small patch of grass next to the parking lot of a free clinic. There was a beach umbrella above his head shielding him from the springtime sun, though he was extra covered with a hooded bomber jacket, and a boombox he leaned his shoulder against, the tape deck in synchronization with Gerard’s on the other side of the lot. In between them was an organized pro-life protest. Their chants were being drowned out to Madonna’s  _ Like A Prayer _ , though Mikey and Gerard weren’t doing anything other than sitting about and watching cars go by on the street. Mikey only perked up when he noticed a familiar figure approaching from the sidewalk.

Frank’s face paled when Mikey lowered his sunglasses, and he stopped in his tracks. He looked away, heavily considering crossing the street.

“Frank!” Mikey perked up, beckoning him closer. “C’mon, come sit with me!”

He chewed on his lip. Mikey knew damn well all he was doing was walking home from school, and his parents would rip him a new one if he was seen in full St Paul VI High School regalia whilst sitting next to Mikey Way. And yet, imaginary strings were pulling at his sternum relentlessly. He clutched the straps of his backpack.

“Please? We’re just chilling.” Mikey’s smile was so soft and seemed harmless, though when he looked over at Gerard, Gerard in a black mini dress with a floral mesh shirt overtop and smoking, staring blankly at Frank as if to tell him  _ just keep moving along, chickenshit _ , he finally caved and took a spot under the umbrella. He kept his back to the street and bowed his head.

“What, uh, what’re you and Gerard doing?” Frank muttered, picking at the half-dead grass under him. He couldn’t bear to look up, his face flushed pink.

Mikey beamed. “Just hangin’ out, like I said.” The song shifted to  _ Weeping Song _ by Nick Cave. “People-watching, if you wanna be specific. How was your day at school?”

Frank cleared his throat. “Uh...it was fine, I guess. Had a pretty hard Latin test.”

“Oh? I could help you out with that if you want.” Mikey nudged his side.

“Of course you would...you know, like, every language.” Frank smirked to himself. “Why do you even bother with public school when Ray just teaches you all this stuff?”

Mikey shrugged. “Ray’s not good at math.”

Frank snorted and nudged Mikey back. His gaze drifted back over to Gerard quickly, just to see if he was still watching, and much to his dismay, he was. His expression had calmed, though, and it seemed like he was smirking. Frank still swallowed hard, his brow creasing. “Your brother, uh, I don’t think he likes me. You sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

“You know how he is. He just acts tough and angry to scare everyone.” Mikey smirked confidently. “He doesn’t hate you. Believe me, I asked him.”

“What? Why?”

He chuckled. “Because I wanted to know, too. Even if he did, which he  _ doesn’t _ , I still would’ve asked you to come hang out with me. I’m my own person.”

Frank felt his chest get tight. “...Yeah, yeah, you are. Sorry-- I-I didn’t mean to assume that, uh, you do everything he tells you to. I know you don’t.”

Mikey sat up fully so he could learn forward with his elbows pressed to his knees. “You okay? You look kinda feverish.” He reached up and brushed the backs of his fingers over Frank’s temple, making him jump.

“Probably,” Frank muttered, trying not to shiver against the cool touch of his hand. “Uh, sorry. I don’t think it’s contagious, though.” Before he could finish his thought, the washed-out chanting of the protesters started rising up into cheers, and right when Frank lifted his head up, he screamed.

All Mikey could see was red, because he suddenly found his glasses, amongst most of his body, suddenly doused in corn syrup and food dye. The backsplash had hit Frank as well, and when Mikey pulled the glasses off, he could see blurs of Gerard having taken a full bucket of the stuff as well. “Fucking...god dammit,” he hissed.

Gerard got on his feet as the song changed to Jesus Christ Superstar’s title track. The protester with the bucket got in his face and spat on him. Gerard wiped the syrup and saliva off with one finger before wrapping his own lips around the digit.

Frank’s eyes went wide with dread, covering his mouth. “Mikey, I gotta get outta here,” he decided with finality, and grabbed his backpack. “Are you coming home?”

Mikey spat some of the syrup from his mouth. Frank’s stomach shuddered at the visual. “I don’t wanna leave him,” he said with a cough. Once Gerard pulled out a pocket knife, pointing it down at the protester’s gut, he knew this wasn’t going to end well. Panic was rising around them, and he was starting to absorb the energy and anger. “Shit. Gee!”

Frank heard one of the people in the mob say his name. Someone recognized him, and started whispering to someone else. “Let’s go!” Without thinking, he grabbed Mikey’s hand and jerked him away from the parking lot just as police sirens echoed nearby.

Gerard’s attention was too wrapped up in his threat that he hadn’t noticed Mikey’s disappearance, at least until the pavement of the parking lot rumbled. It shifted, then cracked under a few of the mob’s feet, causing them to stumble. When he turned toward Mikey and found him missing, he just sighed. It was too late for him to make a break for it as two cop cars pulled up to the scene.

“Put the knife down, Gerard,” one of them said immediately upon stepping out.

Gerard smiled and handed it over, and rolled his eyes as he was cuffed and escorted to the back seat. “Good to see you boys again, how’ve you been?”

  
  
  


“Frank! Jesus-- slow down a second!” Both of their immune systems were never able to tolerate running for long, and by the time they stopped, they were leaning forward with burning lungs. Mikey finally had time to pull his hood up again to hide his face from the sun.

Frank was a shaking mess. “W-we really shouldn’t stop,” he said, despite how badly his stomach was churning. He was sure he would throw up if he ran any more, but he hardly cared at this point. “What if they catch up to us?”

“Chill. We’ll be fine.” Mikey straightened his posture, grimacing down at himself. “I, uh, can help you get cleaned up if you need it. I can imagine Nonna’s gonna ask questions about...” He gestured vaguely to the red splatters against Frank’s white button-up.

“N-no. I’ll be running late, and then she’ll be even more angry.” Frank groaned, letting his head droop lower. “I can’t believe I was dumb enough to get noticed by those people. They sit right behind us every Sunday, I’m so dead!”

Mikey grabbed Frank’s wrist. “Come on. It won’t take long, I swear.”

“Mikey!” Frank couldn’t help but be dragged along, and after a block, he realized they weren’t going the usual route to their houses. “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s like a clubhouse. Gee fixed it up after he graduated and a bunch of chill kids hang out there now. Well, kids more his age,” he explained, and turned to cut across a baseball field. They walked down a hill and crossed a narrow path around a pond to a thick line of trees, out of sight from any nearby streets.

_ Gerard... _ Frank’s jaw clenched at the thought of him. He wondered what happened, if anyone got hurt in the parking lot. He wondered about the cops, and the protesters again, and the cycle reverted to panic about his family getting a very upset call from their church friends. He got so lost in his guilt that he didn’t even notice them approaching the run-down looking house.

It used to be a recreational center when he was in elementary school until the town couldn’t pay for the upkeep. The outside was dirty and the wooden boards were still up over the windows. Frank might as well have just died on the spot. “Mikey...” he groaned again, stumbling up to the front door with him. Well, it wasn’t so much a  _ door _ as it was a 4-by-8 piece of plywood hanging on by a very strong nail. It was very clear that the place was supposed to be a no-trespassing zone from the outside.

“Frank, I swear on your god, I will not let any harm come to you. I just wanna help.” Mikey pushed the plywood aside and pulled him into the front room. The interior of the whole building was only lit with colorful fairy lights and candles, which made the place smell nice, at least. It was warm, though, and Frank could feel the back of his neck start sweating after a few minutes. There was music on in the background, though to him, it sounded like someone taking their rage out on a poor guitar. He couldn’t understand what the singer was screaming about, but it sounded sinister. It was easy enough to ignore if he tried hard enough.

Mikey guided him through a main room with couches and an old TV and into a small kitchen that seemed like it needed a good cleaning. There were a few older teenagers lingering about, but they all stepped out of the way once they saw Mikey. Frank hugged himself as if germs were going to attack him at any moment, and he watched as Mikey shed his own jacket and pulled out a roll of paper towels. Mikey tore one off and dampened it, then added a spot of dish soap. “Okay, I’m gonna get close to you because my glasses are kinda fucked,” he warned him as he got down on his knees.

Frank shifted back. “What are you doing?”

“For fuck’s sake, Paranoid Pansy. I’m just getting a better look at your shirt.” Mikey tutted and started dabbing at the red spots until they lightened up. The tiny spots of coolness through the thin fabric made Frank’s skin tingle in a way he felt guilty about.

He swallowed hard, and sputtered out the first thought that popped in his mind to distract him. “So, is Gerard a cult leader now or something?”

Mikey’s hands stilled, and he gave Frank a look. “I dunno. Maybe,” he answered, mainly just to mess with him. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Frank’s tongue stumbled on scrambled answers. Nothing seemed to be right about this situation, but he doesn’t really want it to end. Whether it was because he was afraid of what he had to face when he went home or something else, he still had no idea.

“You make the funniest faces sometimes,” Mikey thought aloud, smirking to himself. “This place is just a safe zone for people still tryin’ to figure themselves out. I dunno what it is about Gerard--” That was a lie. “--but he sorta helps them. Whether they’re having trouble at home or looking for someone to vent to. Hell, sometimes they just come over to party, but that’s a rarer occasion.”

Frank stared off at the peeling wallpaper ahead of him. It almost sounded like a church to him, except for the partying, obviously. Maybe Gerard really  _ was _ a cult leader. He really didn’t want Nonna to be right about the Ways.

“There, I think I got all of ‘em. Listen, Frankie, think about it this way.” He stood up and tossed the paper towel out. “You’ll have a fun story for your next confession.” When he winked with a click of his tongue, Frank thought his own legs would give out. It all felt like whiplash, the way Mikey was disgustingly charming and back to stone-faced in a split second. “Anyway, I finally absolve you of your daily debauchery. You know the way home from here?”

Frank blinked, and nodded slowly. “Yeah...yeah. S-see y’around, then. Um, I’ll pray for your brother.” He expected Mikey to laugh once the words came out, and fought a pang of dizziness when he was met with a soft smile and a nod instead. Glancing down to inspect Mikey’s work, he hummed and hurried out of the place without looking too freaked out.

Mikey washed his face and hands off in the sink, sighing heavily to himself. Staring down at the sink, he watched as the last of the red stains circled the drain, and he thought about Gerard again. Taking a deep breath, he bit a tiny hole in his wrist and drew the sigil of Gusion against the cold, dull metal. “Okay, show me where Gerard is,” he said firmly and started filling the sink with a few inches of water.

The red of the remaining food dye and Mikey’s blood swirled together in erratic patterns at first. Nothing seemed to appear, which made him nervous that he messed something up, until the image of a wolf pounced from one side of the sink to the next. The red swirls started to glow faintly, and splotches of blue followed, blinking in a pattern.

He sighed and drained the sink, stepping back into the main room to get the others’ attention. “Gee’s at the police station. Meet me there, I’m gonna go tell Ray,” he announced, and they were quick to spring to their feet.

  
  
  
  
  


Gerard was content to sit in the interrogation room. He hadn’t been here many times before,  _ yet _ , but over the years, he found peace in not fearing the law. It didn’t inspire him to break any laws, of course, but he knew he didn’t do anything inherently wrong. Besides, he was more of the victim here, with the evidence of the stains he was smearing all over the table and chair. As he waited alone, he slouched back and craned his neck until he was blankly staring at the fluorescent lights above.

Until they flickered and shut off completely.

Gerard raised a brow and started tapping his fingers against the hard surface. When they surged back on, though, the light was as red as a darkroom, and the reflection in the two-way mirror was not his own. Instead sat a woman, blond hair, at least a small handful of decades older than him. Her eyes were lined heavily in black, and she smiled calmly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Gerard?”

The skin around his throat went cold, and he shifted in his chair. “...Sister Imperator, I’m assuming.” He knew he should have been scared, but all that rose to the surface was rage. “You look like shit.”

“What a charming boy you’ve grown up to be.” Her hands were neatly folded on her table; Gerard could see that she had something binding her wrists, too. “I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for ages, but you’ve never answered. It’s rude to ignore your elders, especially ones in charge of your future.”

“The only thing you’ve tried to do for my future was cut it short. And I’m sure you’d still do the same.” Gerard bristled.

“What can I say? I’m a creature of simple ambitions.” The way she was so casual and laid back made him grit his teeth. “Just because you’ve been away from here for so long, though, doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Now that I know where you are, I  _ will _ finish what I started.”

He couldn’t tell if she was dropping the temperature in the room, or whether it was his own dread settling heavy on his skin. She was grinning now, and he wanted to scream. “I don’t care how much you’ve invested yourself in me. You can’t have my brother,” he barked.

She stared at him for a while, watching him squirm. There was something unnatural to her, even in the way she poised herself. “Keep saying your prayers, Gerard, though they won’t do you much good in the end. But I’d rather you die with honor, at least. I can be reasonable.”

“What the fuck are you?” Gerard leered at her.

That seemed to be the right question. Her lips turned to a wolfish grin before breaking out into a sickeningly sweet laughter. “We’ll meet again soon,” she crooned, right before Gerard’s table burst into flames.

He jerked back as hard as he could, forgetting that he was still cuffed to the table. The chair was knocked back, and his feet slid out from under him as he cried out as pain shot sharply through his shoulder. He hung off the table, still attached to it, but not quite able to sit on the floor due to its height.

In his short seconds of terror, he hadn’t noticed the lights had gone normal again. The fire was gone, and the door opened.

“Mr. Way, what the hell are you doing?” A man in a suit stepped into the room. He held a manila folder in one hand, but quickly placed it on the table. “C’mon, get up.”

He continued to stay in his awkward position, painful as it was, mostly because he found it hard to get his footing. When reality fully set back on him, his eye ached terribly, and he jumped when a pair of arms hugged him from behind and helped him back in the chair. “Oh...Detective Montagna, what a gentleman...” he croaked, trying to come back to his senses. His breath was still shaky, but he straightened his posture and did his best to hide it. Despite seeing fire moments ago, there was no evidence of his arms being burned. It was a rouse. He fell for a stupid party trick.

The detective cringed when he pulled away, finding leftover corn syrup on his sleeves. “Let’s get serious now, shall we?” When he circled the table, he sat down on the other side and opened the folder. “Right now, we can charge you for public indecency--” His eyes flicked down to Gerard’s minidress. “--and attempted assault, but you’re also being accused of destruction of private property.”

Gerard raised a brow, folding his hands again. “I didn’t destroy anything, Detective.” A few photographs were slid in front of him, showing the gaping cracks in the parking lot of the clinic.

“You’re saying you had nothing to do with this?” Montagna asked suspiciously.

Gerard shrugged, and winced in pain. “Listen, it’s never my intention to hurt anyone. I’ve only been dragged here for misdemeanors, I wouldn’t go this far. All I meant was just to rile up the crowd, and then  _ they _ pushed the situation. Look at me!” He laughed nervously. “Sure, I had a knife, but that was just scare tactics. I didn’t injure anyone.”

“One of the protesters broke his ankle from falling in the crack,” Montagna corrected him. “And from what my boys told me, they saw what looks like blood covering the area.”

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t cause the pavement to break. I didn’t hurt anyone. How could I have possibly done that on my own?”

“Well, you do tend to have a small record of strange phenomena occurring around you. You and your brother--”

“Mikey had nothing to do with this either.” Gerard’s voice sharpened. His body tensed even more until he was shaking, his breath hitched. “Leave him out of this.”

“He  _ was _ there with you today, though, wasn’t he?” Montagna leaned back casually.

His fingers curled until his nails dug into the flesh of his palms, and he stared at the detective as hard as he could. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to uncuff me, then open that door so I can leave. You’re not going to ever pursue me or Mikey about this case again. Is that clear?”

Montagna went silent, and after a few seconds, he pulled the photographs away to tuck them back into the folder. “Right, right. Of course. Sorry...” he muttered, and fished for the cuff keys to unlock him.

Gerard groaned through the shoulder pain as he pushed himself up, and found his gaze flicking back to the mirror. Nothing changed, he could still see his reflection, but an uncomfortable warmth crawled up his spine. As he was let out of the room, he hastened down the hall to the front entrance.

Ray and Mikey were already there waiting for him. Ray was chatting up the clerk at the front desk, and when Mikey saw him, he paled. “Shit, you ok?” He stepped up and pressed a hand against Gerard’s cheek, his thumb grazing right under his throbbing eye. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine.” Gerard turned his head away. “Nobody’s gonna trouble us, let’s just get outta here.”

Ray glanced at him with concern; they knew something was amiss, like they could smell it on him. “You are hurt,” he stated.

“It’s nothing big, I just...I may have popped my shoulder, stop worrying.” Gerard was already on his way out of the building, and he found a smile creeping on his lips when three of the rec center regulars were waiting on the sidewalk for him.

“What about your eye?” Ray asked, hot on his trail. “It’s bleeding.”

“No, it’s not,” Gerard bit back, keeping his face turned away. Whether it was or not, truly, he wasn’t sure under the corn syrup, but he wasn’t in the mood to have their disappointed gaze weighing him down. “Just take Mikey home, I’ll be back tonight.” One of the three, a young red-haired woman, lifted his good arm around her shoulders to help carry him away to the rec center, the other two quietly fussing and asking questions about what happened.

“Gee!” Mikey called out to him, but he couldn’t catch his attention anymore. His heart dropped to his stomach as he watched his brother round the corner, and he shook his head. “The fuck is wrong with him?”

Ray sighed. “He’s gaining a following.” When Mikey looked up at them, they rested a gentle hand on his back to guide him on the path back home. “You know, his influence. He may not be preaching, but he’s gained enough control to sway people to his word.”

Mikey huffed, picking at the small bite mark on his hand. “Yeah. I know people are all mooning over him and stuff now, but I just hate that he keeps picking them over us.”

“A leader needs to tend to--” Ray stopped, their eyes narrowing. “Did you cast a spell recently?”

Mikey sucked air through his teeth and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. I just wanted to make sure that Gee was okay after we got separated. Fuckin’ Frank, I shouldn’t’ve let him drag me away from him.”

Ray’s eyes widened at the sound of Frank’s name, but they cast the thought to the side. Frank wasn’t important at the moment. “What did you see?”

“Just police lights, I guess. And a wolf...I think it had wings. Not sure what it was doing there.”

Ray stared forward and took a deep breath. They hummed in thought, frowning slightly. Primo surged into his memory for a second. “Me either. But it has to mean  _ something _ . Visions always mean something.”

  
  
  
  


Gerard woke up with a hard twitch, gasping at first until his lungs settled. The pain in his shoulder and eye came back in full force, and he looked down. The shoulder was bruised, but it wasn’t out of place anymore, at least from what he could see that wasn’t covered by the guy nuzzled up against it. The familiar feeling of hands all over his body crawled against his skin, but this time, they were real hands.

He bit his lip, then slowly, awkwardly, wriggled his way out from under three sleeping bodies, muttering apologies when one of them groaned against his bare hip. Once he was free, he slid off the bed and onto the floor before standing again, and padded over to the bathroom.

His skin was mostly clean now, at least free of red dye, his hair still somewhat crusty. The bruises on his shoulder were even more prominent in the harsh lighting, and he could even see lines of red and purple covering his wrists as well. Leaning over the sink to stare harder at his reflection, he cursed at himself for falling asleep with his contact in, but it scared him that there was crusted blood,  _ real _ blood, still glued to his waterline. Taking a deep breath, he turned the tap on until the water ran cold, dipped his head to drink straight from the faucet, then splashed his whole face. The Grucifix clinked loudly against the hard plastic of the sink. After pulling his contact out, he reached for a nearby cabinet and pulled off a wash rag to lightly clean off sweat and whatever other bodily fluids remained on his torso, until the sound of footsteps gripped his attention.

Ray stopped in the doorway and set down a backpack at Gerard’s feet. “Figured you’d need some clothes,” they said, keeping their eyes averted. “Wanna talk?”

“Do I have to?” Gerard pushed the long, sticky tendrils of his black hair back before leaning over and opening the bag so he could get re-dressed. He paused for a moment upon finding Ray had even included a sling for his arm, and smiled lightly.

“You haven’t looked that out of it before. Something happened.” Ray closed the door behind them. “I just want to make sure everything’s really alright. Just because you’re barely home anymore doesn’t mean I don’t have to look out for you. You named me Ray for a reason, remember?”

Gerard avoided their gaze, even if it was out of genuine worry. Perhaps that’s just what made it worse. “I think I just overstepped my limits this time by accident. I let my anger get the best of me.” He was careful pulling the t-shirt over his head.

“And your shoulder?”

“Cops were a little rough when I got snarky,” he lied. “That probably caused the anger. Well, that, and then they said something about Mikey, but I stopped them right away. They’re not gonna come sniffin’ around him.”

“Are you gonna be alright for the show this weekend?”

He nodded. “Yeah, no, this is nothing. I’ll be peachy by then.”

Ray nodded. “I only ask because Martin’s gonna be around tonight to go over some songs, and I figured you should be there.”

“I said I was gonna be home by tonight,” he sighed. “Didn’t trust me?”

“No, Gerard, not everything I say has to be about you being in trouble. I just wanted to give you a space to talk about things without Mikey around, I know you hate when he gets scared. And he does, about you. A lot.  _ For _ you...I mean.”

Gerard swallowed. “Yeah. I get what you mean.” He leaned forward until his forehead pressed against the mirror. “He always looks worried these days. I keep telling him that things are alright, but I don’t think he believes me.”

“Well...things are growing more complicated with time. You’re getting older, finding your path. I think he still needs to find his.”

“Tch, finding my path. Does that involve causing minor mayhem in the fucking boondocks for the rest of my life?” Gerard pressed a hand to his chest. “I was born to rule nations. Look at me now.”

“People are listening to you. I know you see it, but you have devotion. Sure, you had to start from scratch, but look at what you’ve made already. You’ve established a sanctuary, and you’ve got at least four districts eating out of your palm after two years. It’s a good start.”

He let the words sink in for a while, and blew out a deep breath through thinned lips. “I think I’m gonna pray for a while. I got a lot of thinking to do.”

“Okay.” Ray pressed their hand to the doorknob to open it again. “You know where we’ll be.”

When Gerard looked at him again, he gave a shaky, almost childlike smile. “Thanks. I mean it.” He took another deep breath and exited the bathroom once Ray was gone, left the bedroom, and unlocked another door that had a big sign that read--  **STAFF ENTRANCE ONLY** . It led down to the basement, where Gerard and Mikey had set up their own altar. The whole room was plunged in darkness until he lit two candles on either side of a miniature statue of winged Lucifer.

He pulled out a small box from under the cloth draped over the small table, and used a piece of charcoal and scrap paper to draw a sigil. He placed it in front of the statue, and lit two incense sticks over it before sitting back with his legs folded in a meditative position. “I call upon Vassago to show me things to come. Show me the forks of my path, the vices and virtues of my choices.”

  
  
  
  


Ray never looked excited since they’d left Vadstena, at least, until they had a guitar in their hands again. Despite not playing for nearly a decade and a half, the skill was still so natural to them. It was right. It felt like home. And not only did they enjoy hammering away on the frets, Gerard’s music really allowed them to slip more into their wild, fiery element.

Martin, a well-built, six-foot-three powerhouse of a person with a soft face that almost didn’t seem to match the body, sat down by Ray behind the stage so they could both tune their guitars. Their visages seemed to complement each other almost perfectly, if one looked long enough. “I know this is nothing like the stadiums we used to play back in the day, but this is the biggest venue for Gerard yet.”

Ray nodded. “He took to songwriting so quickly, but I can’t really say I’m surprised.” They paused. “Maybe a little surprised, given the material.”

“He’ll probably find his way to writing about our Lord eventually.” Martin shrugged. “He’s young.”

“If these songs get us to play together more often, then I really don’t mind this new stuff.” Ray kept their head bowed to hide their grin.

Before Martin could reply, someone who Gerard liked to describe as Mikey’s shorter body double wielding a bass flicked a pick at their shoulder. “C’mon, we’re just about ready to take the stage.”

“Thanks, Dev.” Martin sighed and got up, giving Ray a soft pat on the back. “Let’s kill it.”

The three of them joined up with Gerard and the band’s blond drummer. Gerard’s eyes were lined heavily with black, vertical lines drawn over his grinning lips. His shoulder was healed enough that he could move it freely on his own, so the sling was gone. The words ‘I AM WITH YOU’ were scribbled in eyeliner on the side of his neck. “Okay, this is it.” He put his hand out, and the others joined him.  _ “Per aspera ad inferi,” _ he muttered, and they all nodded before breaking to walk out to the spotlights.

The venue was packed; Gerard seemed to recognize a lot of the faces, even in the darkness. As he took the mic, he stood up tall with his stance wide. “Hey, I’m Gerard Way and my friends and I are gonna play some shit about gettin’ angry, and we want you to join us. So let’s go!”

The music was explosive right from the start and didn’t let up the whole night. Gerard felt his chest tighten every time he opened his mouth, relentlessly screaming at the sea of faces before him, and they all sang the words perfectly back to him. There were times, specifically certain lines, that did bring out genuine anger in him.

He imagined seeing Imperator’s face staring back at him, a still figure amongst the dancing masses, with her cocky smile.  _ “This hole you put me in wasn't deep enough, and I'm climbing out right now. You're running out of places to hide from me!” _ He was leaned over the mic stand, pointing out to his imagination.

Ray and Martin were lost in their chords as well, though Dev always kept their gaze constant on Gerard. Observing him.

Gerard’s throat was raw by the time they reached the last song, but he was still alight with energy. As he caught his breath, he waited until the others were ready, and Ray slammed down on the opening riff. He stared up at the spotlights like a divinity washing over him, the words spilling from his mouth.

_ “You’ll never make me leave, I’ll wear this on my sleeve. You wanna follow something, give me a better cause to lead--” _

In the back of his mind, things finally started to make sense to him. His eyes were damp by the time the song ended, and he was left there panting with a smile. “Thank you,” he told the crowd when he realized all that was left was their cheering. “Remember, worship yourselves and don’t take any shit. Goodnight.”

  
  
  


He stepped out the back for a cigarette. The back alley was quiet, though he could hear some of the audience start to gather around the street by the end of it. For now, he kept his face turned away until he saw Dev step out to join him. He pulled out his own cigarette and lit up quietly.

“Hey, you really kicked ass tonight,” Gerard murmured, nodding to him.

Dev smirked. “Yeah, it was pretty good. The crowd was really fuckin’ alive, but that was more because of you. You were, like, so into it. More than ever.”

Gerard took a long drag. “It was a team effort,” he said offhandedly, though he smiled. “Learn to take a compliment.”

Dev ran their tongue over their teeth. “Alright, shit.” They eyed Gerard up and down. “So. We’re gettin’ pretty big. I mean, a thousand people is still small in relative terms, but it’s better than most. Think it’s gonna keep goin’ up from here?”

“I dunno. I didn’t really plan on making it this far, I only started writing shit to get my anger out. And here we are.” Gerard lowered his head and nudged a rock with his boot. “I do like being on stage, though. I like...the way the crowd reacts. Feels like I’m meant to be there.”

Dev hummed as he pulled out a flask from his back pocket. He unscrewed the top, offering it to Gerard first.

“Oh. Thanks,” Gerard said as he accepted the offer. He raised it to his nose first to smell it, catching an air of cinnamon whiskey. “We’ll see where this all leads to. Kinda had other plans in store, but if this really hits off...”

“Gerard!” Ray stepped out of the forming crowd at the end of the alley. “Hey, uh, you got a visitor.”

He raised a brow. “A vi-- who?” he asked.

“Just come over. It’s kind of important, you’ll see why.” Ray waved him over.

Gerard sighed and handed the flask back over. “Guess I’ll catch you later.”

“Uh, hey--” Dev grabbed his wrist loosely. “Listen, if you ever wanna talk about music or, like, the future...hit me up. I’m interested.” His smile grew. There was a crookedness to it, but somehow Gerard found it all the more charming.

Gerard smiled back, his fingers brushing over theirs when he stepped away. When he heard Martin step out from the back door, he turned one more time to see them get sort of heated in Dev’s face. As much as he wanted to know what they were talking about, Ray guided him to wade through the crowd, muttering apologies on how he couldn’t stay to talk to anyone. He clung tight to Ray’s hand for a moment as he was led over to a sleek black car with tinted windows, stopping by the back door. “...You serious?”

“Just get in,” Ray said softly.

He shot them a devious look, but opened the door and flipped down on the back seat. When he turned his head, he felt his mouth run dry.

“I’d rather you not smoke in here, if that’s alright,” Secondo said calmly. His eyes were unreadable behind his mirrored aviators.

Gerard nodded in a daze and dropped the remainder of his cigarette outside before closing the door. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass, for one.” He crossed his legs. “Word around the abbey is that Imperator has been tracking you. Ever since you’ve been making your own music, you’ve been gaining some traction, and while I would usually commend you for that...I didn’t want to wake up one morning to hear the news of your sudden demise.”

“Am I in danger?” Gerard asked shakily.

“Not anymore.” Secondo turned his head forward. “Drive.”

“W-wait. No, hold on. You can’t just take me wherever you want after fourteen years.” Gerard shifted uncomfortably. “What gives?”

“I’m your father, I think I should do what I please.”

He laughed in fear. “...What the fuck, dude. You’ve been absent for more than half my fucking life, and you think you have some sort of right over me?”

“Gerard, how well do you know your band, hm?”

“Alpha fucking raised me, for one, something that should’ve been  _ your _ job.” Gerard’s eyes narrowed harshly.

Secondo finally removed his glasses and turned his body more towards him. His leer urged him to continue speaking.

“I went to school with Bob, Alpha trusts Martin, and we’ve known Dev for a year. He’s been really dedicated to the music.” He bit his tongue. “I know Martin’s Omega. Dev’s probably a Ghoul, too, but I never asked. It’s bad luck to reveal a ghoul’s true form, after all.”

“Dedicated. It’s funny you use that word, specifically.” Secondo’s finger pressed against his own temple, leaning his skull into the touch. “Are you sure that he’s not dedicated to  _ you?  _ Ghouls, of course, are only loyal to those who’ve summoned them.”

_ “You _ summoned Omega, didn’t you? Or Primo did...either way, I’d say he’s pretty fuckin’ loyal to the bloodline.” Gerard raised a brow, though he knew that brought Dev into question. Turning his head, he clicked his tongue. “Dev’s working for Imperator.” Of  _ course _ the best bassist he knew wanted to kill him.

“I want you to stop playing your music, Gerard. It’s only going to draw in more danger for you.”

“No. No, you don’t get to choose that for me.”

“What you write isn’t even about the church! It’s all vengeance fantasy!”

“Jesus Christ...” Gerard pinched his brow. “Yes! That’s the fucking point! I still pray all the time, but so far, I’m pretty sure our Lord is perfectly fine with me spreading my own message for the time being. I don’t need your permission to be angry at something that’s partially your fault.”

“We’re protecting you!”

“Why are you so fucking uptight about the songs anyway? You guys seem to be perfectly fine with Mary On A Cross.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“We’re not discussing Nihil right now.” Secondo lowered his voice in tone. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Oh? Why not, because he’s too busy sucking Imperator’s dick all the time? Because she’s got him hook, line, and sinker, she just lets him do whatever he wants?”

“Nihil is certainly  _ not _ allowed to do whatever he wants. We’ve kept him under observation for years now, he’s been a constant worry to us all. Gerard, listen to me.” He reached for his hand, and frowned when Gerard pulled away. “You don’t want to get tangled up with Sister Imperator on your own. You aren’t even remotely aware of what she is.”

“Then are you gonna tell me or what?” Gerard bit back.

“We...” To his surprise, Secondo actually looked  _ scared. _ “We’re not entirely sure. But we know she’s a demon of some sort. A strong one. Nihil summoned her before we were born because he had the brilliant idea to have one lead the Ghouls.”

“Clearly, the clergy is all for it.” Gerard got a sour taste in his mouth.

“We didn’t mean for things to be this way. It just wasn’t safe for you.” Secondo reached out to him again.

Gerard’s nerves felt like they were on fire with anger. “Pull the car over.”

“No.”

“I said, pull over or I’m gonna jump out.” Gerard gripped the door handle. “Don’t test me.”

“If this continues, then you won’t be staying in this place for much longer.” Secondo raised his voice, but not in anger. “If Sister Imperator keeps slipping through the cracks, then we’ll move you to the College. You’re long overdue for a proper Satanic education anyway.”

Gerard inhaled sharply. “I finally get a good footing here, I finally get control of my abilities, and you just want me to start over?”

“This is what you wanted, though. You wanted to leave this life behind and take your place. You know that we need you, you have legitimacy over Copia for the next in line.”

“It’s not even set in stone, though! You said  _ if _ . Even when you dangle my lost hope in front of my face, you can’t even make it certain.” When the car stopped at a red light, Gerard opened the door. “Don’t follow me.” He slammed it as hard as he possibly could before storming away.

  
  
  


Mikey took a deep breath as he flipped the pebble in his hand. As his lungs stilled, he threw it upward at Frank’s window, and reached down to get another. He waited exactly 25 seconds before throwing it, and repeated the process one more time before Frank finally appeared.

Frank stared down at him like he had two heads. “You know I  _ narrowly _ avoided spending the rest of my life in this room because of you, right? What do you want?”

“Wanna hang out at one of my favorite spots?” Mikey rocked back on his heels.

Frank gripped his windowsill hard. “It’s midnight.”

“Yeah, that’s like, the best time.” Mikey’s smile grew. “Gee and Ray are out and I’m home alone. And it’s a really nice night out.  _ And _ I’m pretty sure your parents & Nonna are asleep by now. Not like they’ll know you’re gone.”

“I hate you,” Frank muttered, pressing his face into his hands. “Okay. Gimme a minute.”

Mikey bounced eagerly in place, sneaking over to Frank’s back door to wait for him. When he finally came out, Mikey nudged him with a grin. “Thanks, dude. We don’t have to stay out long, but I hate being home alone. I mean, I kinda hate being alone most of the time, and I wanna show you this place. You’re gonna think it’s great.”

“I don’t believe you.” Still, Frank couldn’t help but smile as he followed him away from their backyards and across the pike. The walk over took roughly 15 minutes, and when they finally reached the destination, Frank shook his head. “The  _ graveyard? _ Mikey.”

He snorted. “Trust me. Please, Frankie, this means a lot to me.”

“You’re psychotic!” Frank hissed.

“Frank, you have to learn to calm down. I promise nobody’s gonna find us here,” Mikey assured him after hopping the chainlink fence. “There are no ghosts in the graveyard.” For a moment, his smile trailed off, but it returned again.

Frank scratched the back of his head. “I’m not really afraid of that, it’s just...a-after hours. What if we get caught?”

Mikey’s jaw dropped in shock. “Aww, is Fwankie scawed of the big bad night watchmen? Gonna get in twouble with his Nonna, hm?”

“Shut up!” Frank finally climbed the fence, then gave Mikey’s shoulder a shove once his feet touched ground again. “I’m not scared. I mean it.” Straightening his back, he turned and marched down a line of headstones. “Besides, graveyards are hallowed ground. At least, most of ‘em are. I’m sure this one is. It’s kinda like an outside sanctuary.”

Mikey strolled up a step behind him, folding his hands behind his back. “Yeah...I guess so.” He checked down to see if the soles of his feet were on fire, but nothing happened yet. “Anyway, my favorite spot is just a little up the way from here. You can see the stars best. Ray used to take me here when I was younger and teach me about the constellations.”

“Really? My parents are afraid of Ray, but I don’t get it. He seems like the nicest guy ever.” Frank huffed and folded his hands behind his head. “I wish he was  _ my _ dad...”

Mikey slowed down for a moment, sighing. “Ray isn’t...” He hesitated, eyeing Frank up and down. “Uh, Ray doesn’t go by ‘he’ or ‘him’. They’re, well, they’re a ‘they’.”

Frank blinked. “What’s that mean?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. They’re not really bound to being a man or woman.” Mikey skipped forward a few steps, then stopped at the back of a mausoleum. “Up here,” he said, and found his footing in chipped stone before pulling himself upward.

“Are you kidding? We have to sit on someone’s grave??” Frank hissed, feeling whiplash from going so rapidly from one subject to the other.

Once Mikey was safe on top, he reached downward. “Yeah, come on, scaredy-rat. The dead aren’t gonna mind for a few hours.”

Frank swallowed, glowered, then took Mikey’s hand and climbed up behind him. “...Fine. Your hands are super cold, by the way.” When he looked up at the sky, though, he found a new and almost overwhelming sense of calm. “Yeah, alright, I see what you mean. This is...pretty cool.” He’d gotten so distracted by the sky that he forgot to let go of Mikey’s hand.

Mikey beamed at him in excitement, not noticing their hands together. “Told ya. Now, look up there.” He pointed to a cluster of four stars with four more than would form a diamond-shape beneath them. “That’s Vinea, he was a king of revealing true nature. He rode a big black horse and carried a great leather whip that could tear down walls.” He leaned closer to Frank to try and point more accurately.

Frank looked up for a few seconds, but once his fingers twitched, his face pointed downward and heat flushed across his face. “...That sounds really badass,” he muttered, and glanced back up to Mikey’s face.

Mikey nodded. “And Marthim is over there, he’s one of my favorites-- you okay?” When he caught sight of Frank’s face, he blinked.

Frank fell silent, only nodding. His hand finally retreated, and he pulled his legs up to his chest and let out a deep breath.

When the quiet dragged on for a few minutes, Mikey shifted slightly and picked at a loose string on his own shirt. “Ray’s...not my dad. Gee’s and my mom, uh, she’s dead. And our dad--  _ dads, _ actually, I don’t really know how to explain it without sounding bat shit crazy. But Ray looks out for us. I mean-- I guess Ray looks out for Gee, and Gee looks out for me.”

Frank blinked at him. “...What?”

“Told you it sounds kinda nuts,” Mikey sighed. “I really shouldn’t be talking too much about my family.”

"No! You can trust me, I promise. I won't tell." Frank leaned slightly closer to Mikey and whispered. "Cross my heart."

"Ooh, you'd cross it for me, Catholic boy?" Mikey grinned deviously, then giggled when Frank’s complexion deepened in hues of pink. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Okay. I-- I trust you. Promise."

When Mikey calmed, he cleared his throat. "Gee and I...we were born in Sweden. As you know...but, uh, in the Vadstena."

"That's Satanist," Frank thought aloud. Any form of a smile he had vanished instantly.

To confirm, Mikey pulled out his Grucifix from under his shirt collar. "Yeah. Gerard's actual father is, uh, the Papa himself."

Frank's face paled near to the point of dizziness, and he grabbed at Mikey's hand to try and ground himself. "Wait." Mikey could practically see the wheels turning in his mind. "...Oh, wow. Oh. Oh! He  _ is _ a cult leader, oh...Mikey. He’s converting all those people."

"Remember, you promised not to tell." Mikey stared him down. “Gee’s not pushing religion onto them, I can promise you that. We still practice, but it’s not like he’s a missionary. People just gravitate to him and he helps in his own way.”

Frank shook his head. "Yeah, no. I--" He inhaled as deeply as he could and held it. "This, this is a lot. I’m still not sure about it all."

Mikey’s brow knotted. "What am I not making clear?"

“Wait, so...is that why Ray isn’t a man or woman?  _ What _ is Ray?”

“Dude, don’t say it like that. Ray’s still a person.” It was alright to lie in this context, Mikey thought to himself. “Their gender isn’t a religious thing.”

Frank bit his tongue, his face almost looking pained. He shook his head and muttered an apology, but the anxiousness only wore his face down more. "Right, well, anyway...” He scratched the back of his head. “I've, shoot, I've been thinking about you a lot, Mikey. Like, in the way the priests tell me not to think...about boys."

Mikey's lips parted, but he remained silent.

"Is this your doing? Are you testing me or something?" Frank shut his eyes tight.

"Uh--" Mikey drew a complete blank. "N-no? At least this isn't any plan or something, I just really like hanging out with you. You might be jittery as all hell, but you’re still cool as shit."

Frank pressed his face into his knees and groaned. "Man, I'm so confused. I can hear Nonna and all the Fathers from school in my head telling me I'm wrong, but my stomach is going crazy, saying  _ they're _ wrong, but they've never been wrong before."

"You gonna puke or something?" Mikey shifted an inch away. "Try not to do it on the grave, dude."

"No!" Frank clicked his tongue. “No. It’s not like that.”

Mikey clutched at his own ankles, silent, waiting for Frank to continue. He could feel something stir in his chest, but ignored it. It was probably some sort of stupid worry he didn’t have time for.

Frank inhaled deeply, his lips parted. “I feel wrong, but it’s like...I dunno. I feel wrong for feeling wrong. Because this stuff going on inside me, it’s not like I can control it. So why would God purposefully give me something that He condemns? I’ve been good, y’know?”

Thunder-- it felt like thunder in Mikey’s chest now. But the skies above were as clear as ever. Against all better judgment, Mikey chuckled. “Maybe He’s just punishing you for trespassing and sneakin’ out at night.”

“It’s way beyond that, Mikey.” Frank actually started to look panicked, and he grabbed Mikey’s hand again, tighter this time. The thunder grew louder. “I don’t wanna go to Hell for something that isn’t my fault. And I know if I have to stay away from you, it’s gonna hurt. Like, a lot.”

“Frank...” Mikey tensed up. “Dude, breathe. Hell doesn’t have to be a punishment, you know.”

“What do you  _ mean _ it doesn’t have to be a punishment?! It’s the biggest punishment known in history!” Frank looked at Mikey with a deep-set betrayal, and he shook his head. "You don't get it." Frustrated, he swung his legs over the side and climbed back down. “I thought out of everyone in the world, you’d be the one to understand. I can’t believe you...”

The thunder crashed against Mikey’s brain, nearly making him jump. "Frank?" Mikey crawled over to the edge. "Frank, where are you going? What did I say?"

"I just...I need some time, Mikey. Sorry. Catch you later." Frank seemed to hesitate for a final minute.

Mikey gripped the hard stone. “No, Frank! Just tell me, I...I do understand. I’m sure I do if you explain it right.”

Frank shook his head again. “We’re on opposite sides. I think you’re bad for me, just please leave me alone for a while. Bye, Mikey.” He finally stormed off toward the fence and hopped it, leaving Mikey alone.

Mikey was tempted to follow him, but all he could do was watch the back of Frank’s head grow smaller. How dare Frank just bail on him, how dare he run away from one of the coolest spots Mikey knew! “Fine, pussy!” he spat. “Go on, then. Run back home to your stupid oppressive God.”  _ Yeah, that’ll show him. _

But it didn’t actually make any of the bitterness subside. Mikey just flopped down on his back and steeped in the frustration, staring at the stars. He could feel his veins pulse under his skin, until he realized that it wasn’t just his pulse points that were thrumming. He lifted his hand over his face to inspect his fingers, where the sunburn was particularly raw. The skin shifted on its own, until the burn split--  _ and blinked _ . A dark eye rolled against his bone before he jumped and shook his hand violently, and the burn seemed normal when he was brave enough to look again.

Catching his breath, Mikey sat up and searched the constellations for answers, for his weird, stupid body, for Frank, but they never came. Not that he needed the stars anyway, when a voice on the other side of the mausoleum made him nearly jump out of his skin.

“You know he was pretty much confessing his love to you, right?” Gerard croaked, thumbs hooked in his belt loops.

“What the fuck-- were you watching me?!”

“No...I just caught the tail end of that. I, uh, just swung by to see if you were okay.” He scratched the back of his head.

Mikey groaned and climbed back down, unashamedly running into Gerard’s arms. They both clung to each other in an attempt to ignore how stupid the world was, albeit for different reasons. “How’d you know I was here?” His words were muffled into Gerard’s shoulder.

“Checked at home first, then figured since everyone else was probably at the show, this was my third guess.” Gerard stroked his hair.

Mikey sighed. “Gee...are we gonna be okay?”

There was silence at first, and Gerard shut his eyes tight. “I dunno, devil-child. I really fuckin’ hope so.”

  
  
  


Much to Gerard’s dismay, there were no more shows to be played. Ray and Martin had informed him that Dev decided to “pursue other music”, in their own words, but he knew what they really meant.

Frank didn’t talk to Mikey a week after their talk in the graveyard. Mikey would stare out the window and hope that he’d catch Frank going outside or see him in the kitchen, but he was elusive. Careful. Mikey tried his hardest not to let the pain show, but Gerard and Ray knew him too well. What Gerard and Ray didn’t know, what Mikey kept to himself, was the weird eye thing. Every time he thought about approaching them about it, anxiety would bubble in his throat like bile, and he took it as a bad sign. That this was something he had to confront and manage on his own.

At one point, Ray, Gerard, and Mikey stepped out to go buy some food, and found Nonna on the front porch. Ray gave a polite wave to the woman, as he always did, but the woman pulled out a vial the size of her fat pinky. She flicked olive oil in Mikey’s direction, spitting,  _ “Vattene, malocchio!” _

Mikey’s expression went completely blank, and he sized Nonna up with his eyes. “You better get that tumor checked out,” he droned, in a voice that didn’t quite sound like his own.

Ray grabbed Mikey by the arm and tugged him away quickly. “Do you know what you just did?!” they hissed, glancing back to the old woman, who had gone grey in the face.

No, Mikey really had no idea what he’d done. Instead, he stayed quiet and let the feeling fester.

  
  
  


In the early fall, Nonna died from cancer. Despite Frank still not having talked to him since the night in the graveyard, Mikey stood outside the church when the service happened. He’d even got dressed in his nicest black and everything, trying his best to show support. Gerard hung around on the other side of the street just to make sure nothing bad would happen to him. There was an appropriate overcast, which made it easier on Mikey.

When Frank finally emerged from inside, he stood atop the steps and just stared down at Mikey for a minute before caving and running into his arms. “We’re moving next month,” he confessed. “My parents can’t stand it here anymore.”

Mikey blinked. “...Oh,” was all he could manage to say, gripping to the back of Frank’s suit jacket. He knew, then, that it was his fault. Frank was going away because of  _ him _ .

“I’m sorry,” Frank muttered, and he sniffled. Fuck, he was  _ crying _ . Mikey was at a loss, and part of him wanted to cry, too, but it was like he forgot  _ how _ . He just stood there, clinging desperately to the only person that never saw him as  _ too _ weird. But then everyone, Frank’s family and even the priests, especially the priests, were suddenly staring at him. Glaring. And all these judgmental eyes suddenly on him made him feel small and desperate for acceptance and he realized Frank  _ wasn’t _ hugging him back anymore.

Frank wasn’t hugging him back.

When Mikey let go, he tried to search Frank’s face for he didn’t even know what, but Frank refused to look him in the eye. Mikey’s skin started that strange shifting feeling again, and he hugged himself tight instead. Something split on the back of his shoulder, not his shirt, but his skin, and it hurt like one of Gerard’s rugburns. Another split opened on his ankle, and he could feel the one on his hand make an attempt as well.

Mikey’s lungs spasmed, and he stumbled before he ran from the church.

Gerard cursed under his breath, removed the cigarette from his lips, and hoofed it after his brother. “Mikey! Hey!” he called out, regretting smoking now because, shit, the burn really flourished in his lungs. “Mikey!”

Mikey eventually slowed when he crossed the gates into a park. His legs were trembling, and he just wanted to fall into the dirt and bury himself. Instead, he just waited for Gerard to catch up and grab him by the shoulder, jerking him around in a 180 turn.

“Hey, dickmunch. You don’t go sprinting off like that.” Gerard jabbed the lit end of his smoke just inches away from Mikey’s face before he pulled it back between his lips. “So. Things didn’t go so well?”

“Gerard, something’s wrong with me,” Mikey spilled out.

Gerard gave him this look like,  _ yeah, no shit.  _ It seemed the grass below them agreed as well, making their best attempt to wrap their tiny blades around their shoes. The shifting sound of insects hissed against the soil, drawing closer.

“No-- I mean, it’s like the sun thing. Except it’s worse.” Mikey uncovered his hand from behind his sleeve, thrusting it forward to Gerard’s chest. The eye had returned, still squinting. The pupil moved about rapidly underneath.

Gerard stared at it, tendrils of smoke drifting out of his nose. “...Ew. How many of these are there?” he asked, making no effort to touch it. The cigarette finally dropped from his fingers before he snubbed it in the grass. “Can you see through it?”

Mikey stammered; he hadn’t even thought about that. “N-no,” he muttered, which made him wonder in that moment, what  _ was _ looking through the eye? But the uncomfortable shifting against his skin was a quick reminder that there might have been more, and he kicked his shoe off. It flew a good distance.

“No, c’mon-- your foot’s gonna get all wormy.” Gerard grimaced. “Stop.”

He glowered and braced his shoulder against Gerard as he pulled his sock off, and lo and behind, another eye was there on his ankle.

Mikey’s stomach turned. Gerard started to feel the anxiety, unsure if it was just secondhand or not. “I think there’s one more,” Mikey mentioned after he shrugged his jacket off. Unbuttoning his shirt, he pulled it down over his shoulder.

“Whew, that one’s a big fucker.” Gerard placed his hand beside it for measurement, and he estimated it was about the size of his palm. This one had a deep violet iris, and it stared widely back at Gerard. Grimacing, he jabbed his thumb into the side of the sclera. “Does that hurt?”

Mikey twitched. “No. But when you touch it...I can hear voices. Like, really deep and quiet. I don’t think it likes you touching it.”

“Huh,” Gerard peered at the eye, which darted about frantically. “Y’know, the original angels had a shitload of eyes. And wings. And demons are just fallen angels, so...”

“I wanna go home...” Mikey pulled his shirt back up and re-buttoned it. “I wanna see Ray. They might know what to do.”

Gerard nodded and grabbed Mikey’s shoe to toss it to him, and once all his unnatural eyes were covered up again, they walked back home. The silence was still tense. Mikey wanted to talk about Frank, but he didn’t want to think about him. It was a strange battle of desires coiling in his gut.

Ray could tell something was wrong immediately, and Mikey was thankful. The shirt was taken off fully this time, and Mikey kicked off both his shoes and socks. Ray knelt down on the floor and rolled up the pant leg, resting Mikey’s foot on their thigh. They leaned down to get a closer look at the eye, uncomfortably close. They muttered to themself for a moment, and the faint smell of burning flesh lingered around them.

“...Ray, what’s happening?” Mikey swallowed hard, trying his hardest to balance with the unsteady level. Gerard stepped up to hold his normal shoulder.

When Ray looked up, their eyes were like mirrors, and the skin over their temples cracked. When they spoke, there were flashes of sharp teeth. “I don’t see any soul attached to the eye. It’s just...” They shrugged. “Well, it seems like just an eye.”

“Just an eye?! Ray, it’s in my fucking foot!” Mikey screeched.

“Yes, I get that eyes aren’t supposed to be anywhere besides your face. Well, it’s difficult to say what made these appear. What were you feeling when these suddenly came about?” Ray placed Mikey’s foot down and pulled his hand close next. “This one’s the same.”

Mikey’s brow knotted hard. “Frank. He told me he’s moving away.”

Ray turned their face up to look at him. “I’m so sorry,” they said softly before looking back down. “Hold on. Oh...oh, I see now.”

“What?” Gerard knelt down, almost pressing his face against Ray’s to get a closer look. “Oh, weird! The pupil’s got a sigil of Amon in it!”

“Michael, I think you’re calling other demons to you.” Ray straightened their back. “Did you know demons are actually fallen angels? And the angels’ bodies were more shaped like interlocking rings, with hundreds, if not thousands of eyes.”

Gerard smirked proudly. “Yes. Yes, he did.”

Mikey kicked him lightly and pulled away to sink into the couch. “So...am I gonna lose my body? I don’t wanna turn into an angel!”

“You won’t. Demons took the form of people, mostly. Some were animals. Some had multiple heads, but...your father took the form of humans’ greatest desires. At least in human-shape, don’t you worry.” Ray gave a soft smile. The sharp teeth made it look oddly gruesome.

Mikey’s breath hitched, but he nodded. “I feel kinda sick,” he muttered, looking back down at his hand. The eye fluttered shut once more, as did the one on his ankle. He rolled his shoulder, and let Ray give it a glance, but it was already in the process of fluttering closed. When Mikey forced himself to take a deep breath, he hunched over until his forehead pressed against his knees. He pressed his hands over his ears for a moment to try and dull the underlying voices, and breathed deeply.

“You’re going to be okay.” Ray stroked Mikey’s hair. “Michael, you’re going to get all the help you need. I  _ was _ planning on telling you some big news, but you beat me to the punch. I suppose it’s my turn now, though.”

Gerard’s smile dropped. “...What?”

“We’re moving to Rome.”

“The fuck we are!” Gerard snapped. “No, we’re actually  _ doing _ something now, Ray. I don’t care about before, I finally found what we’re meant to do.”

Mikey timidly hugged himself. “You and Ray, you mean.”

“M--” Gerard pressed his lips together hard. “No, come on. Don’t put yourself down like that. You know you’re important. Our friends love you to pieces.”

“If they had to choose, they’d pick you over me every time. Besides, the only person that actually does care about me outside of this house is leaving forever, and I don’t wanna stare at his empty fucking house every day. So...I’m the Antichrist. I’m saying we’re going.” Watching Gerard get so upset made Mikey nervous. “Hey.” He grabbed Gerard’s hand. “ _ Tollamque manum meam, et iterum nusquam timere, _ remember? We’re gonna be okay, Gee.”

Gerard shot Ray a look, waiting for them to say something.

“Secondo is insistent, and I don’t have the power to tell him no.” Ray looked back at Gerard apologetically. “We’ll see Martin again, I’m sure. Not sure about Dev, though.”

Gerard huffed and hid away in the bedroom. Without thinking, he punched a wall, then cradled his knuckles as he bit back a howl. He’d only left a few chips in the drywall, and instead of tending to the freshly broken skin, he just threw himself on top of his bed and pulled headphones over his ears to drown the world out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “but raynon!!!!!! didn’t secondo himself put i’m a marionette on infestissumam????” listen, my friend. i hear you. i understand your dilemma. but until mr. forge has the balls to cover gimme gimme, i’m pretending that he didn’t cover abba. sorry ✌💖
> 
> oh, and i hope it was obvious enough that dev is dewdrop lol. i know he was the bassist for meliora (and it took me the longest time to put the pieces together as to why prequelle's fire ghoul had a water name 🤡) anyway, dew & omega will be making some more small appearances later on ;)
> 
> thank you so much for reading this far!!! even seeing the hit number go up makes me get all fluttery in my tummy, i hope you're having a good day


	4. 1996 (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Mikey find out their favorite band's in town, and it's a long-needed relief when they're still trying to settle into Rome. They run into a few very unexpected people during the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just found out recently that a pope hat is called a mitre. i could change it, but i could also pretend ch2 takes place from gerard’s perspective and he has no idea what a mitre is. but now we all know. i still feel a lil silly for not actually putting in the effort to research it but what can ya do ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> also i updated the tags! im sorry for the small amount of frikey in this chapter. unless you’re into that, in which case i’m still sorry because it gets angsty................unless you’re into that.............which, i hope it meets your standards. the other significant tag doesn’t happen this chapter, but uhhhhh i figured i’d prepare you for the inevitable future. i am sorry to announce ray is not in this chapter, but my favorite chaotic crust metal boy is!
> 
> content warning: uhhhh very _very_ light sexual references, another blink-and-you-miss-it type thing, underage drinking, minor violence, rats, unsafe self-branding

Gerard laid back on his king size bed in his own room that was nearly as big as his old house, trying against all will to hate Rome. He stared down at the notepad in his hand, tapping the tip of his pen against the paper as he stared at his list. One, he wasn’t allowed to play his own songs anymore. Two, the Siblings of Sin followed him around and took care of him, not because he gained a personal connection with them, but only because he was their future pope. Three, Ray was called away to return to touring with Terzo. Four, he couldn’t see Mikey as often now that the Church was practically grooming him as a god.

He wasn’t easily won over by the dramatic shift in money or luxury. And from what he could tell, Mikey was having just as difficult of a time adjusting. Just as he was weighing heavy on Gerard’s mind, the door opened and he invited himself in, hugging the silk robe around his body, and throwing himself onto the bed with an exhausted groan.

Gerard tossed his notepad aside and stuck the pen behind his ear. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked, sitting up.

Mikey buried his face in the plush red duvet. “It’s just a lot, y’know?” His words were muffled, but Gerard could still understand him. “It’s cool being more in control of my shit, but I wish I could do it without so many people  _ watching _ me. It’s so weird.”

“I got some bad news for you, Mikes.” Gerard leaned forward until his chest pressed against his thighs, and he stroked Mikey’s slicked-back hair. “People are gonna be staring at you for the rest of your life now. Probably.”

“That’s not news.” Mikey rolled onto his back, ruffling his hair until it stuck out in as many directions as possible. “I never even considered that we’d be living like this one day. Is that weird? Like, I’ve always known who I am. But even when you’d tell me about Vadstena and the Siblings and the Papas and everything, I just couldn’t grasp the concept of it all.” His voice shrank gradually. “It’s so much.”

“Yeah, sure is.” Gerard nodded. He ended up turning his face to the ceiling as well, staring at the various murals of macabre visuals in a Baroque style.

“Can we sneak out?” Mikey craned his neck to look up at his brother. “Just for a few hours or something, please. I just wanna be normal for a bit.”

“Since when have you ever been normal?” Gerard snorted. “You sure you’re up to walking around the city? You look like they really drained the energy outta you today.”

“I’m fine. They mostly just had me sit around and opened my eyes to ask questions. Which is draining in itself, because, like, holy shit. I’m channelling all these demons and the Siblings get  _ really _ into it and I feel like I’m shrinking in the back of my brain and I wanna tell ‘em to take it easy. Of course they don’t.”

Gerard’s gaze went blank. “So...you too tired to go out or not?”

“No! It’s my idea. Besides, I’m sure you might actually stab someone if you have to sit around and learn any more about the civil war between Papas Quaesitum I-V.” Mikey smirked.

“God, even hearing the word Quaesitum makes my blood boil at this point...” Gerard shuddered for emphasis, and finally pushed himself off the bed. “Okay, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

Mikey squeaked and rolled himself back on his feet as well, helping himself to Gerard’s extensive wardrobe. Completely ignoring the finely tailored jewel tone button up shirts and embroidered waistcoats, he dug further back until he pulled out the familiar worn-out fabric of a Morbid t-shirt. He pressed it to his nose and inhaled slowly, desperately searching for any lingering scents of dirty New Jersey, of low tides and motor oil and factory smoke.

“Jesus, Mikey, get your own clothes.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“No time. I wanna go as quick as possible.” Mikey tossed his robe off, where only black shorts remained underneath, and he tossed the shirt on.

“You can’t spare the two seconds to go down the hall? Mikey, my pants don’t even fit you--”

“First of all, you’ve dealt with living in the same room as me for fifteen years.” Mikey slid on acid-wash jeans. “Secondly, belts exist, remember? I can find ways around your lady-hips just fine.”

“That’s not the fucking point.” Gerard pinched his brow. “Whatever. It’s too late, I guess, you fucking twig.” He shoved Mikey. “These lady-hips are partially the reason people liked me back home.”

“Shut up or I’ll plague you,” Mikey kicked him back.

_ “You _ shut up and make us a door already, if you wanna get outta here so bad.”

Mikey was already shutting the wardrobe door, but he stared hard at his brother. “Forgetting something?”

Gerard’s eyes narrowed until it clicked. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, and backed up to pull out his nightstand drawer and pop his contact in.

In the meantime, Mikey drew a sigil of Seir on the door with his blood, then the logo of their favorite record store under it. When Gerard returned, he opened the door, and they stepped through into an indoor shopping mall. Although the sun was just starting to set outside, Mikey didn’t want to take any risks yet.

They stepped through, crossed the floor where the record store awaited them, and got comfortable in the various aisles to see what was new. They hardly ever came here to buy anything, it was more of a safe space outside of the College to breathe and be around their favorite music. 

“You know what sucks?” Mikey thought aloud, his back facing Gerard as he flipped through the selection of Misfits CDs. “Italy doesn’t have Halloween. How dumb is that?”

Gerard raised a brow. “Why are you suddenly so uptight about Halloween? You were never incredibly excited about it before, outside of, like, the spooky factor.”

Mikey turned around to face him. “There were plenty of parts I liked.” He scoffed. “Okay, so, there was a lot of candy I wasn’t allowed to eat, but I liked when Ray sat outside the door and played songs as he gave out candy. And it was the only time school was ever fun.”

“Yeah, but you always got all pissy when your boyfriend wasn’t allowed to go trick or treating.” A smirk played at the corner of Gerard’s mouth.

Mikey inhaled deeply and held his breath. “Frank...wasn’t like that.” Before Gerard could get another word in, he stopped him. “He never could be, and you know that. And I don’t think I was even ready for...” He scratched the back of his neck and huffed. “Whatever. Things got so fucked, and I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Anyway. October is boring as shit around here.”

“You got me there.” Gerard nodded and wandered over to a corkboard full of fliers for upcoming shows. “Oh, you’re kidding me! Mikey!”

“What?” Mikey didn’t bother lifting his face this time.

“You’re never gonna guess who’s playing tomorrow night!”

Now his interest was caught, slightly.

“Fucking Repugnant, dude. We’re going.” Gerard was beaming.

Mikey’s eyes lit up. “Wait. For real?” He hurried to Gerard’s side. “Like, for  _ real _ real?” When he looked the flier over, his chest fluttered. “It’s an 18 and up show, though.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re going, no matter what.” He gripped Mikey’s arm and grinned until his mouth hurt. “It’s gonna be awesome.”

The excitement was contagious, and soon Mikey was grinning just as hard.

“Are you guys big fans?” the cashier asked, the counter only a few feet away from them. She smiled curiously at them both, dark curls with deep silver highlights framing her face and neck. There was a sparkle to her blue eyes that gave Mikey the strangest underlying hint of anxiety. Gerard was clearly captivated by her, though.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. You?”

“I just heard the shows are pretty intense, that’s all. Also heard the singer is into some really weird shit. He wears blood all over his face. Like,  _ real _ blood.”

“They’re not exactly the first metal band to be deemed  _ weird _ , y’know.” Gerard gave a small frown.

“I dunno.” She leaned forward, elbows pressed against the counters. “If I were you guys, though, I’d pass on it. It’d be a shame if two nice boys like you end up missing.”

Mikey stared hard at her for a few seconds, then tapped at Gerard’s inner elbow. “I’m hungry,” he spoke up, and turned away. “Buy me a milkshake.”

Gerard didn’t have time to respond, since Mikey was just about out of the store. He groaned quietly and was quick to make chase. “Dude, you really need to cut the habit of running off--” He cut the thought off and stared down at where Mikey tapped him. “Oh.”

“Ghoul,” Mikey muttered. “We’re going to the show.”

  
  
  
  


"Okay, just don't leave the gig unless you come see me first. Got it?" Gerard passed Mikey a fake ID. “I don’t want you getting caught up in the wrong crowd, devil-child.”

Mikey’s eyes couldn’t seem to stop darting from one direction to the next, taking in the gathering crowd. The buzz of their excitement vibrated through his veins, and he couldn’t decide whether it was a good feeling or not. It was just a lot. “No worries, I don’t think I’m gonna leave your side.”

Gerard raised a brow. “Okay, if you say so.” Surprisingly, when they reached the door, the bouncer just gave them a once-over and let them in without any questions. Mikey seemed confused at first, but he knew it was better not to say anything and just let it happen.

They descended a stairwell. The first thing they were met with was a thin veil of smoke permeating the whole floor. The chatter was loud, beats of echoed laughter cutting the normal talk overlaying some song neither of them have heard of. “Where do you wanna stand?” Gerard asked.

Mikey took a deep breath, then gave a faint cough. “By the side. Maybe the front corner.” He almost grabbed at Gerard’s sleeve, or the bottom hem of his shirt, but he didn’t want to be seen as clingy.

“Alright, I’ll meet you there. Just gonna go get a drink first.” Gerard pat him on the back before splitting off. Mikey rolled his eyes, a little pissed that Gerard didn’t seem to get the memo that he didn’t want to be left alone, but things were going to be fine. At least that’s what he kept repeating to himself.

As Mikey dodged punks standing around to fill up the empty space close to the wall, he started getting tinnitus. It was merely ringing at first, then something he could only describe as hissing. He swore he could feel eyes staring in his direction, but as long as he didn’t turn to look, he convinced himself that it wasn’t a problem. He was a little out of place, looking as young as he did. It was probably just that. Nobody could tell that he was the second coming of the devil here.

After Mikey found his spot, the music faded out to silence, and the house lights went black. The opening band took the stage, and Mikey pressed his back to the wall, making himself look like he was just leaning coolly against it until Gerard finally appeared from the conglomerate.

“Uh, hey. Got you one,” he offered, holding a plastic cup out for Mikey. “It’s just rum and coke.”

Mikey took it and drank half of it down through the tiny straw provided. “Thanks,” he croaked, smiling. Since Gerard was back, he let himself loosen up more and just got lost in the squealing guitars and double kick drums. The tinnitus still lingered faintly, but Mikey was able to ignore it until Repugnant finally came on.

The room cheered on, as did Gerard. Mikey just smiled at the sight of the frontman; the very sight of Mary Goore, the guy who he and Gerard spent countless nights listening to, now right in front of him, gave him shivers. He owned the stage with such confidence, such dominance. The stark red of the blood on his face shone in the stage lights, only brightened more vividly with the contrast of the smeared corpse paint. Mikey was tempted to try and get closer, but as the first song progressed, his skin washed over with light pins and needles. At first, he thought it was kind of cool the way the music did that to him.

The feeling only intensified as the songs went on, though. Over the music, Mikey started to hear low groaning, almost right under his feet. He kept glancing down, seeing nothing, but the pins and needles over his skin slowly weighed heavier. Gerard almost felt it too, and he grabbed Mikey’s shoulder.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” Gerard searched his brother’s expression. Mikey’s pupils were blowing out. “Is it too much for you? I think you’re doing your weird sleepwalking shit again.”

“I swear, it’s not me this time...” Mikey muttered back. Though his voice was drowned out by the blaring speakers, they could still understand each other just fine. “I think there’s someone else here. Y’know, someone like us.

Gerard turned back to search the crowd, but nobody was looking in their direction.

“I think I’m gonna get some air,” Mikey decided, gripping his chest for a moment as if that helped him take a deep breath, and he held it as he moved back toward the stairwell.

When Gerard looked at the crowd again, Mary Goore was staring right back at him. They held eye contact for at least a minute, and he could have sworn he felt something cold slither over his hand until the frontman lowered his face towards his guitar.

Mikey was practically panting when he took his first step outside. The weight on his legs dissipated, and there was an odd silence that calmed him until the muffled music and city sounds filled his ears again. He walked a little farther away from the venue until he reached the corner of the street, leaning against the lamp pole. Part of him craved a cigarette, despite the fact he’d never smoked before.

As he glanced over his shoulder, he contemplated just asking one of the venue loiterers for one, then finally decided against it. He rolled his neck until it cracked, and rubbed his shoulder when his gaze fell across the street to a tattoo shop. The more he stared through the front window, the more his pulse quickened at the artist and customer. He rubbed his eyes just to make sure he was seeing things right. Out of all the five billion people in the world, from 4 thousand miles away, there sat Frank. In a tattoo shop.  _ Catholic _ Frank. Permanently altering his skin. Mikey’s feet took charge and he stepped inside the shop.

The woman at the desk looked up and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry, we’re not taking any reservations-- hey!” She moved to grab Mikey’s arm when he invited himself into the artist’s room.

“Frank?!” Mikey squeaked before he was tugged back by the woman. The second he was close enough, the familiar vibrations in his sternum returned.

Frank stared wide-eyed back at Mikey, freezing up completely. “Uh...” He blinked and turned to the artist. “I’m-- I’m really sorry. Can he stay for a few minutes?”

Mikey looked at the woman and pressed her hand again hers. As he looked at her, he dazed her momentarily and loosened her grip until he could step away from her and towards Frank again. “I saw you, but I didn’t believe it was really you. I don’t mean to stop you or anything.”

Frank swallowed. “I’m, uh, I’m almost done. Can you just wait another--”

“Should be fifteen more minutes,” the artist estimated.

Mikey nodded. “Yeah...yeah, sure.”

“Just sit in the waiting room.” The artist shot him a hard stare before taking a deep breath and returning to the piece on Frank’s arm. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“Long lost.” Frank bit back a smile. “We used to be next door neighbors since we were kids, but then I moved here from America two years ago. Hadn’t seen him up until now.”

The artist hummed and returned to his focus.

Mikey’s knee bounced impatiently, only able to see a sliver of Frank behind the door frame. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, though, and the fifteen minutes that passed felt like an eternity. But finally, he breathed in deep as Frank finally stood up and moved out of the room, finishing up payment and signing a few more forms.

When Frank finally faced Mikey again, the shock had calmed, replaced by something Mikey couldn’t tell between relief or confusion. “I can’t believe this. What are you  _ doing _ here?”

“Gee got a scholarship.” It was the first excuse that popped into Mikey’s head. “And, I guess all of us moved so we didn’t have to stay too far from each other.” Excitement surged through his spine, but he tried to hold it back. “So, Rome’s a bit out of the way for your parents. What made them decide to choose this place?”

Frank cleared his throat. “I mean...they’re first-gen Italians, they were born around this area. At least my dad was. They figured it was the best place to be.”

There was something off about Frank’s eyes, the way they moved, like he was hiding something. But Mikey couldn’t really blame him; he had too much to hide as well. His own eyes couldn’t stop glancing at the fresh bandage. “What inspired you to get a tattoo? I thought your church hated that kinda stuff. Body is a temple, et cetera, right?” They both left the shop and crossed the street to stand at the mouth of the alley beside the venue.

“A lotta stuff’s changed since I last saw you, dude.” Frank scratched the back of his head. “Since Nonna, uh, things have been really weird. I’ve been asking God a lot of questions, I’ve been asking myself even more questions on top of that...and I still don’t have a lot of answers.” His lips parted again, but he shook his head and sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dump that on you.”

“No, no. It’s all good.” Mikey smiled. “It’s really good to see you. Things have been really weird for me, too.”

Frank chuckled shakily. It was hard to look at Mikey for more than a few seconds at a time, his smile made Frank feel like all his organs wanted to fight each other. His tongue felt thick between his teeth. “Listen, Mikey--”

“I...I don’t know what your parents said about me. Although, I can only assume they never said anything good.” Mikey shuffled his foot against the oily pavement. “But...in regards to the stuff with your grandmother, I-- I didn’t hate her. I didn’t hold any real ill will against her.” It was mostly the truth, anyway. The curse he’d put on her was when he didn’t have enough control of his energy.

Frank’s jaw clenched. “I’d really rather not talk about her right now. Or...ever, with you.” He raised a hand to press against Mikey’s chest, grabbing a fistful of his shirt fabric. “You know, you drove me crazy. Even after we moved, I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He closed a few more inches of distance between them. The more minute details of frustration were all the more clearer in his expression now, making Mikey want to pick apart his brain.

“I figured it out too late. I’ve never felt so dumb.” He exhaled, forcing a smile. The thunder was constant now, replacing the shrill ringing from the venue. He couldn’t tell whether he preferred this or not.

“God, out of all the boys I could’ve chased after, why’d it have to be you, Mikey Malocchio? I know you’re bad news.” Frank’s other hand gripped more of his shirt, then let go to settle at the back of his neck after he could feel the familiar Grucifix pendant hanging behind his shirt. “I need to know what you’re feeling.” Frank’s nails dug slightly into Mikey’s chilled skin. “About me. About...” Frustration bubbled in the back of the throat when he couldn’t find the right word.

Mikey could feel pain under Frank’s touch, like accidentally brushing his skin over a hot stove. That never happened before. He tried to push through it, though he whined quietly. “Frankie, I think--”

“No, dammit. I said what you’re  _ feeling _ . I don’t care about thinking right now,” Frank huffed. “Thoughts get in the way.” He was close enough now to smell the rum Mikey had been drinking, his lashes fluttering as he stared at his lips. “You’re really warm...”

“Frank.” Mikey’s voice was firm for a second, and he took a deep breath as his neck arched. He thought he could handle the burning of Frank’s touch, but he reached up and pulled his hand off. It was more tolerable on his hand than his neck, at least. “You’re the warm one. Um-- shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frank’s eyes widened slightly.

“Listen, I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you that night at the graveyard. You didn’t deserve that.” Mikey started idly playing with Frank’s fingers until tiny tendrils of smoke rose from his own fingertips, and he pulled back.

“Dude, you sure you’re okay? What’ve you been drinking?” Frank’s voice sharpened with worry.

Mikey blinked. “What?”

“Your, uh, your eyes. They’re really red right now.” Frank reached up to touch his cheek, flinching when Mikey swatted the hand away.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Mikey huffed. “Sorry. I just wanna focus on this right now. I wanna keep talking. So, uh, I was dumb and I only realized how much you meant to me after that fight. But by then, y’know, I fucked up too bad.”

Frank sighed quietly. “I really missed you. And now that I have you back, I...I don’t even know what to do. You still didn’t even answer my question, by the way.”

“Right. Feeling--” Mikey pressed the back of his head against the wall. The burn on the back of his neck started to shift and itch, but he willed it to calm down when he concentrated hard enough. “Honestly? Seeing you again is really good.”  _ And wrong, _ his mind added, but he didn’t have the heart to say it. “I fucking missed you, too. So mu--”

Frank cut him off with a hard kiss. For a few blissful seconds, nothing was wrong in the world, until the sharp scent of hot metal hit his nose. Mikey grunted against his lips,  _ it hurt so bad, it hurt like emptiness and judgment and holy fire, _ and when Frank pulled back and opened his eyes, he stumbled back a step. His face nearly went grey. “Mikey?!"

There were deep cracks spreading out from his lips and across his jaw, up to his nose. The blown-out red capillaries in his eyes had blackened. “Frank, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you, please.” He grabbed Frank’s wrist, holding steady when he tried to jerk away. It kept burning, but he didn’t let go. “Okay. I never told you everything because I was afraid you were gonna freak out.”

“You didn’t tell me what? That you’re an agent of evil?!”

“Shut up!” Mikey hissed. His hand trembled in pain. “Promise not to run away? I swear, everything I just told you about how I feel is true. Just please stay.” Frank nodded, and Mikey released him. “Okay.” Mikey pulled the Grucifix back out from under his shirt. “I’m...uh, my real dad is...the devil...” His voice shrank down to a quiet croak.

Frank’s stare went blank. “For real?”

“Yes, for real. I haven’t lied to you at all, Frankie. When I was born, some crazy bitch tried to kill Gee, so we were both placed under protection and--”

“You  _ are _ an agent of evil.” Frank cut him off. “You’re the Antichrist. Like, the real one.” His hand raised up to brush against Mikey’s cheek again, his touch causing the cracks in the corner of his mouth to extend up to the top of his jaw.

Mikey chewed on his lip with a frown. “First of all, dick move. Secondly, I’m not all about hurting people and burning the world down or any of that. Shit, I’m just tryin’ to survive.” He noticed the music from the venue had stopped, and his eyes flicked over at the door for a moment.

“But you follow the ways of darkness.” Frank’s brow knotted hard.

“Are you even listening to me, Frankie?! Can you fucking shake the psalms out of your ears for a second?” Mikey rolled his eyes. “Please don’t make me the bad guy, because I’m-- I don’t have to be. Get it?”

Frank’s eyes darted around as he fit his thoughts together, and his eyes lit up. “Oh. Oh, I get it now.” Mikey couldn’t believe that he  _ laughed _ . “Okay. No, this-- this has all just been a test. Even back at the graveyard, I-- I didn’t want to believe it was true, but it is!”

“Beg your pardon?” Mikey’s brow knotted, and he blinked in shock.

“You got me really good, didn’t you?” Frank took another step back and nodded. “I haven’t fallen for anyone else. I couldn’t even fathom thinking about anyone else the way I feel, um, felt--” That hurt. “--about you. And it’s because your dark forces were clutching onto me. I was blinded...”

“I am literally standing right here. What the fuck.” Mikey’s eyes glossed over. “How could you ever insinuate that I was just using you all this time? What do I possibly have to gain?”

“The Antichrist’s purpose is to pull people into sin, isn’t it?”

“I dunno! If you didn’t catch the memo, I haven’t exactly been able to follow your god’s intended path, so...you’re wrong. Our Church kinda left us hanging without guidance when we went away. On top of that, and fucking  _ listen _ this time, because it’s the last time I’ll say it. I. Don’t. Care. About. Converting. You. You can suck God’s dick all you want--”

“But do you love me?”

“Interrupt me one more time, I fucking dare you.” For a second, Mikey’s voice had an underlying deepness to it, an inhuman growl that made Frank’s go pale. He quickly lowered his face with a sigh. “...M’not gonna hurt you,” he whispered weakly.

Frank chewed on his lip. “Okay. Sorry.”

Mikey’s visage started normalizing again. His scleras changed back to white. “To answer your question, I...yeah. I do love you, Frank. You’re still my best friend. But it’s obvious this isn’t going anywhere.”

Low murmurs rolled in the pit of his mind, and for the first time, he could actually understand the words.  _ You can save this, _ they promised him.  _ You don’t have to lose him. He’s willing. _ Mikey forced his gaze on Frank and ignored them.

Heaviness settled in the pit of Frank’s chest. He wished the confession made him feel better, but he only ended up feeling worse. In order to try and ignore the weight of it, he tried to change the subject. “So...I guess the whole lupus thing was just a front?”

Mikey’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah. But, uh, touching you before didn’t hurt, so that’s new. Wait, let me see your tattoo.” He removed the bandage and leaned down slightly. An image of the Lady of Sorrows stared back at him. “...Figures.”

“So I guess the priests were right...religious icons are really good protection wards.” Frank tried his hardest not to smile.

“What priests?” Mikey asked. “What were you asking them about?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Frank cleared his throat, scratching his upper arm. The conversation died and left them both in awkward silence. He wished he could find something else to say, but he could hardly even look Mikey in the eye anymore. He felt like his world was violently ripped inside out.

“Anyway. I’m gonna go. Dunno if I’ll ever see you again, but I hope you figure your shit out. And by the way?” Mikey forced Frank to look him in the eye. “No matter what you try to tell yourself, I never held any influence over you. Your attraction to me  _ is _ completely on you. Chances are, you’re probably into dudes, so have fun talking to God about that.” He flicked the Lady of Sorrow’s face as hard as he could.

“OW! Shit, Mikey!” Frank growled, stumbling when they bumped shoulders as Mikey sneered at him and returned inside the bar. He remained standing there, only emptiness remaining in his chest.

  
  
  


Gerard sat at the bar counter, slowly swirling the glass in his hand. He stared down into the murky brown drink, lightly chewing on his tongue as he stewed over his thoughts. He kept looking back toward the door, waiting for Mikey to show back up, and grew more anxious by the second. It was probably time to check on him, so he knocked back the rest of it and started fumbling around for his wallet.

“Put his drink on my tab and get him one more,” Gerard heard a gravelly voice say, catching him off-guard. He blinked, and turned his face to see none other than the explosive personality leading the main act. Mary Goore winked back at him.

“Oh, uh--” Gerard swallowed hard. “--Thanks, man. Why’d you do that?”

A shot glass was passed to Mary, and another to Gerard, and he wiped the fake blood from his mouth before knocking it back. “I was surprised to see you in the crowd tonight, Gerard. Really interesting to finally meet you.”

A hard chill shot down Gerard’s spine. His eyes widened, and he smiled nervously. “How do you know who I am?”

Mary’s lips curled into a devious grin. “I wanna talk to you. C’mon.” He finished Gerard’s drink and grabbed his wrist. The singer’s hand wasn’t ice cold, but colder than a human’s should be. There was a faded scar on the back of his hand: definitely a sigil, but one Gerard didn’t recognize. Nevertheless, a sorcerer.

Gerard choked on panic. His head turned back to the door one more time, his lips parting to start a plea that he really shouldn’t be separated from his brother, but he knew better than to expose Mikey like that. Especially to someone who knew who he was. When Mary gave his wrist a tug, Gerard didn’t budge.

Mary raised a brow, but kept smiling. “What’s the hold-up?”

Gerard stammered. For a split second, he was shocked at himself; he never stammered. No, this wasn’t good. “Do you just drag everyone you wanna bang wherever you want?” Not that he wanted that at all, but he’d rather take that reason over finding out Mary was an agent of Imperator.

Mary exhaled a chuckle. “I told ya, I just wanna talk. You seemed to really like the show, and--”

“Talk about what?” Gerard snapped, and breathed in deeply. “I’m sorry. I just-- never, you grabbed me so suddenly, and you know my name, and this stuff doesn’t usually happen.” He shut his eyes to keep himself from looking for Mikey, took a deep breath, and stared hard at Mary.

Mary released his wrist, stroking up his arm instead. “It’s gonna be okay, we won’t do anythin’ you don’t want.” His tone was almost disgustingly playful, and Gerard looked away from him anxiously. “Look, all I need is ten minutes. It won’t take long.”

Gerard remained tense, but he didn’t really see a way out of this. Sure, he could run, but there was no telling how powerful this guy was. If it was really him that was causing Mikey’s symptoms, it meant that he probably knew his shit pretty well. “Okay. Ten minutes,” he agreed, and followed Mary behind the stage with his head held high.

The rest of the band had cleared out of the green room, and Mary closed the door slowly once they were both inside. “Gerard,” he called, his voice quieter now that there were less voices polluting the air. When Gerard turned around, the grin returned and he stabbed Gerard in the left eye with two fingers and his thumb.

“AGH-- FUCK!” Gerard’s head whipped back and he covered his face with his hands, sinking to his knees. “Ow! Shit, you...fucking--”

“C’mon, show me what you’re hiding.” Mary dropped the colored contact between the pads of his fingers. His head cocked to the side as he stared down at Gerard. “I wanna make extra sure that I got the right guy, so c’mon. Look at me.”

Gerard kept his head bowed. His breath trembled violently in the pit of his lungs, and he was sure his heart had never beat this face. When Mary’s boot raised up to lift his chin, he jerked his head away, and a cry followed when he felt a closed fist grab his black hair and tug backward. His eyelids shut tight. “What the fuck are you talking about? Right guy?!”

“Geraaaaaaard...” Mary squatted down so their faces were more level, but he kept a few inches of height on him. “Open your fuckin’ eyes.” His own tarnished-gold eyes bore down on Gerard like he was trying to eat him with his gaze.

“Did Imperator set you up to this?” Gerard hissed through gritted teeth.

Mary was quiet, only offering a blank smile as an answer. Gerard finally opened his eyes, revealing the watery, white eye of his birthright, and Mary raised his brow. “There he is. How’s life away from the church been treatin’ ya, kiddo?”

“Can you let me go now?” Gerard wanted to struggle, but his scalp was aching something fierce. When he was released, he exhaled hard and scrambled back. When he caught his breath, he looked Mary hard in the eye. “Who are you loyal to? Tell me.”

Mary’s stare went zombie-like for a moment, but a smirk twitched in the corner of his mouth, and he ran a tongue over his incisor. “You’re cute. Alright, seriously, get up. You don’t seem like the type to enjoy dirty floors.” He held out a hand to help.

Gerard gawped. He was used to forcing the truth out of people by now, so this meant he might have been in some serious shit now. His lungs seized up, and he tried to regain the strength in his legs as he pushed himself on his feet without help.

Mary snorted. “Aw, what’s wrong? Can’t force me to tell you what you want? All you had to do was ask nicely,  _ Prinsessa _ . I ain’t Imperator’s bitch.” As he spoke, the door opened again, and a clean-cut man appeared with a black cane and a bespoke, very tight red suit. On his way in the room, his shoulder clipped the door frame, making him grunt quietly. Once he straightened himself out, though, he smiled warmly.

“Copia! Copia...?!” Gerard grinned for all of two seconds as he turned to face him, but his mouth calmed. “What are you doing here? Why? Why the hell is Mary Goore keeping me hostage?”

“Gerard, look at how you’ve grown!” Copia held his arms out. “Ah,  _ mio amico!  _ I can’t tell you how good it is to finally see your face after all this time. I just wish it was in lighter circumstances.”

Neither Gerard or Copia were the baby-fatted, bright-eyed boys they used to be. There was a lot more slender stoicism and wisdom far beyond both their ages, and Copia had seemed to adopt Italian now over his native tongue, as was the bloodline’s way. On top of that, the more Gerard looked at him, the more he noticed-- "You're a cardinal now..." An achievement at 27 years old, really.

Gerard wished he could be happy, fuck, he’d wondered if Copia was okay for the longest time. The chill of nightmare flashes wrought by guilt of leaving him back then settled around the base of his throat. “So...do you talk to your mom a lot these days?”

Copia’s chest rose and fell. “If you’re wondering if I’m here to do her bidding, I can promise you. I’m not. We have different goals, me and her. Besides. You’ve always been my friend, and I was hoping we could remain that way.”

“Wait, wait.” Gerard shook his head. “You said  _ lighter circumstances _ , just then. What do you mean?”

“Attentive!” Copia preened slightly. “Yes, well. Despite the Papas’ efforts to hide you again, she’s been sniffing around these parts. And while she’s known all about the secret underbelly we run here, it was decided-- eh,  _ hoped _ , that she wouldn’t think of checking somewhere so obvious. So, I want to help you cover your tracks.”

“Copia-- Cardinal...”

“Copia’s fine, for you.”

“Right.” Gerard licked his lips. “I appreciate you coming out here to find me, which, I still have a lot of questions about, but I’ll save those for later. But I can’t go with you. I still got shit to do.”

Copia twirled his cane. “The Antichrist is with you, I assume. Or, at least he was here earlier.”

Gerard held his breath, automatically on the defense. He couldn’t help but glare at Mary again; chances were, he probably noticed Mikey. He found himself unable to answer.

“He’s pretty when he gets all mad,” Mary purred, crossing his arms.

Copia eyed Mary waringly. “ _ Calmati _ , Mary. And clean the blood from your face.” He tutted, pulling out a perfectly folded silk handkerchief from his sleeve to pass on. Gerard was vaguely impressed. “I do not wish to separate you from your brother. I know you’re wary because of my relations, so how can I prove to you that I mean no harm?”

“I dunno yet. I have so many questions.” Gerard shut his eyes again, covering his white one with his hand. “First one. Could I get some ice or something?”

Copia faced him head-on, holding his face gently. “Let me see the damage...” he murmured, a leather-clad thumb brushing gently over the bottom of the eye socket. He clicked his tongue. “ _ Poverino _ , can you see?”

“Si,” Gerard scoffed. “Just hurts, is all.”

“Alright. Mary, we’re going to have a chat later.” Copia reached for Gerard’s arm, missed the first time, then opened the door to lead him back out to the main floor.

Gerard tensed up all over again, though he willingly followed beside Copia. They diverted back to the bar for a moment so he could get an ice pack from behind the counter, and found his eyes wandering toward the door one more time.

Mikey was standing right there, clutching the frame with wide eyes. Seeing Gerard’s eye exposed, he knew something was immediately up. And when he noticed the  _ second _ white eye in the strangely clean-cut man, he wanted to step closer. The crowd had cleared out completely, even the bar staff it seemed, and the strange energy that affected him earlier had all vanished. Still, he remained hidden in watching, and in slight envy that Gerard was talking to Mary Goore. At the same time, all he wanted to do was pull his brother away so they could talk privately about Frank.

When Gerard spotted him, he pulled back to hide behind the door, but he tried to listen intently.

“How does that feel?” Copia asked, gesturing to the ice pack.

Gerard just hummed with a nod. “Thanks.”

“Is there anything else you wanted to ask me, while we’re here?”

“Here? No, not really.” Gerard inhaled deeply. “The...the place you’ve got. It’s private?” When Copia nodded, he took another moment of contemplation, his jaw shifting. “Fine. I’ll go, but Mikey’s not going to join us. He went home during the show, but he’ll be fine without me for a night.”

“Mikey?” Mary smirked. “You’ve been calling him Mikey?”

“Yeah, his name is Mikey. Got a problem with it?” Gerard let the name slip intentionally; there was something about Copia’s demeanor, at least, that he felt at ease about. Copia reminded him vaguely of Ray. Mary, on the other hand, wasn’t directly tied to the Church, and didn’t seem like he would be the type to get too invested in causing trouble for Mikey.

“Nah, no. No problem.” Mary raised his hands up in surrender. “May the world tremble at the feet of Mikey the Antichrist.” His gaze flicked over to the front door, smirking to himself.

Mikey rolled his eyes. He knew he had to get out of there, despite feeling a pull of anxiety to make sure Gerard was okay. He was old enough to handle himself, he always seemed to be able to, in his eyes. And yet...

Climbing the stairs again, he double-checked to make sure Frank wasn’t lingering around, and turned away from the direction he was just in for good measure. He dipped into the closest alley and walked all the way down to the end until he was met with a metal door. Scowling, he bit into his hand to draw a sigil of Seir, then the College’s symbol and his dormitory number under it.

The door unlocked automatically, and he opened it to step through. The silence was almost overwhelming once the door closed again, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. His eyes immediately fell to the shiny black Bauta mask on his nightstand that was originally given to Ray when Secondo summoned him.

He grabbed it and stared into the eyes, stepping back until he stumbled and fell onto a deep purple velvet armchair too big for his own good. “You look upset. Where’s your brother?” he asked in a soft, worried tone. “Gee’s running off with some tart with a stupid mustache and Mary fucking Goore.” He threw his legs over one of the chair’s arms and slunk down until his back was unnaturally curved. “It’s gonna be okay, Michael. You know how Gerard always comes back...”

Mikey’s face scrunched up, though he tried to fight it, and he sniffled and hugged the mask as tight as he could to his chest.

  
  
  
  


Once they left the bar, Gerard was led to a nondescript white car. He still clutched the ice pack to his face, and stared out the window, not quite ready in the mood for talking yet.

“So,  _ Prinsessa _ \--” Mary cut the silence. He turned around to face Gerard from the passenger’s seat. “--I forgot to ask. How’d you like the show?”

Gerard’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Hey, you’re an Emeritus. Your opinion matters to me.” Mary shrugged.

Gerard’s lips hung open for a moment as he tried to process. “Premature Burial was my favorite of the setlist. But you could try to add more bass to your growling a bit.”

Mary’s brow raised. “Wow.”

“Did you not want me to be honest?” Gerard shrugged. “Listen. I dunno  _ how _ you pulled off the voice mod shit in Voices of the Dead like that live while having...not really a gravelly growl. Sounded better on the album.”

“For your information, pisstank, the voicemod is  _ actually _ voices of the dead. I conjured them.” Mary gripped the back of the chair. Gerard could see now, right under the collar of his torn-up tank, more branded scars right where his throat met his clavicle. “At least  _ my _ music has more variety than just jerking off to killing Imperator.”

“Wait, how the fuck have you heard  _ my _ stuff?” Gerard’s eyes widened. “I’ve only just hit the New York scene and you’re from fucking Sweden.”

Mary only smirked in response.

“Have some decorum, please.” Copia folded his hands on his lap. “Mary’s a top class necromancer, you see. His abilities have come in handy for the church many times.”

“Mm,  _ superb _ ,” he groaned. “So if he’s not Imperator’s bitch, does that mean he’s yours?”

A flush of red crept across Copia’s cheeks. “N-no, he’s a free agent. Well...free of loyalty, anyway. He’s not cheap.”

“I can be  _ your _ bitch if you’re interested.” Mary waggled his eyebrows.

“For the way he talks, maybe he should be cheap.” Gerard tried his hardest not to smile back. He’d noticed that they moved away from the tight traffic of the streets, and they were parked in a courtyard outside a lavish, stark white mansion with Greek architecture.

“Don’t be immediately put off by the noise inside, sometimes I host little soirées.” Copia held out his hand to Gerard. “Don’t be shy. Trust me, where we’re going, we won’t be bothered.”

Gerard swallowed. He lowered the ice pack from his face and placed it beside him on the soft leather of the seat, and he suddenly felt exposed now that his eye was uncovered. He leaned back, biting the inside of his lip.

Copia smiled calmly. “It’s okay. You’re meant to be in places like this, you will only be welcomed with praise. You belong here.”

“Well, if these are my final hours on Earth, tell my brother he’s allowed to have my record collection, I guess.” Gerard finally grabbed Copia’s hand and pulled himself from the car, swallowing a groan.

The front doors opened before they reached the step. A long-haired man in corpse paint awaited them with a bow and let them enter. What Copia described as a soirée looked more like a rager, with nearly everyone wearing the same face paint, and those who didn’t wore what Gerard could only describe as dark-themed Venetian masks. Lights flashed and moved all around them, there was some sort of dance number going on led by six women in black leotards.

When the crowd turned their gazes toward them, they all smiled and leaned in close to each other to speak against the blasting music. Gerard could only read their lips in bits and pieces, but they all seemed to know who he was. Well, it was pretty obvious due to the eye, but he saw his name. The familiar creeping sensation of hands covered his skin, and he had to check himself to make sure nobody was touching him, and nobody was. He just hoped there were no spells going on he didn’t know about.

After Mary parted from the group, whispering something in Copia’s ear before disappearing in the crowd, Copia led Gerard through the main dance area, a dining room, an extensive kitchen, a sunroom, and out to another courtyard in the back. He grabbed two glasses of wine on the way, crossing the pristine green yard to a lush greenhouse.

Gerard stepped in and sipped the wine carefully. There were rows of white heather and hyacinths in the front, from what he could tell, though it was still pretty dark inside.

“This way,” Copia continued to lead him, following the short path to the back where two wicket chairs lined with velvet plush cushions awaited. He flicked a switch in the corner of the wall, illuminating one overhead fluorescent light. “Will this be sufficient?”

Gerard took a moment to listen to his surroundings. The blasting music from the party was out of reach; all he could hear was crickets and frogs from outside. “It will,” he decided, and sat down.

“Good. I’m glad we can finally catch up. Tell me about America, I’ve never been able to stay there for long periods of time, but from what I’ve seen, it’s so vast. So different. You were around New York City?”

Gerard nodded. Part of him wanted to cut the shit and get down to it, but he was suddenly so comfortable. “New York City is fine. I lived in Jersey, though, on very limited funding. So clearly nothing of  _ this-- _ ” He gestured all around him. “--caliber.”

“Yes, but all of us eventually find our way back home.”

Gerard paused, glancing down at himself for a moment. “I’m not home just yet,” he said with a frown. “At this point, I’m not even sure where home is anymore.”

“What I mean to say is, you  _ are _ under the protection of the Church again, at the very least. You are still where you belong, on your way to taking your place in the unholy clergy.”

Gerard fell silent. “Cardinal...” He let the word hang in the air. “You really soared up the ranks there, didn’t you? Twenty-fuckin’-seven, if I’m not mistaken.”

“It wasn’t easy, you know. The only other person who’s ever achieved the position this young is Primo, so, takes a lot of devotion. A lot of effort.”

“A lot of sinning?” Gerard raised a brow.

“In broader terms, yes.” Copia took a large, slow sip of wine.

“So. All that effort and sinning and the lot. You wanna become a Papa?” He was sure the answer was obvious, unless Copia really loved Lucifer  _ that _ much.

Copia was still as he studied Gerard, but finally nodded. “But it’s not because I’m doing it for anyone else. Well, Satan, obviously, yes, but not for the Sister. A lot of people seem to think that. I do really wish to serve Him with my voice. It’s what I was put on this mortal plane to do.”

Gerard let the silence sit again, mulling the words over. The more he watched Copia, the more the cardinal seemed to swallow back nervousness, and he finally gave him some relief. “You deserve it.”

Copia hummed quizzically.

“I’ll be honest, we...sort of want the same thing. We both want to spread the word, and we both want a large platform to do so. But throughout my years of being on my own, learning how to serve Him my way, I’ve come to realize that He’s giving me, uh, alternate messages.”

“Gerard--” Copia’s eyes widened.

“I wanna give up my claim to the papacy and start my own church. No-- fuck it, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. The Papas didn’t help me when I needed it. Imperator was a constant shadow over my life. And I’ve asked the Kings and Princes more times than I can count. This is the right thing for me to do.”

Another silence reigned over them, until Copia stammered for words. “Ah. That’s...”

“Oh, come on. Even if I did wanna come back, I’m way out of league with my competition. Look at you.” Gerard sighed and downed the rest of his wine. “I don’t wanna be a threat to you, Cardinal. I’m sorry if this puts a damper on our friendship.”

“No. No...I don’t think it will. It’s just unexpected, you know?”

Gerard shrugged. “And, uh, can we keep this between us right now? If I’m going to do things my way, that means I’m going to tell the Papas themselves.”

Copia nodded. “Well. I suppose you’ll be sticking with Way, then, instead of Emeritus. Pastor Way?”

“Mm, it could work.”

“Why Way? Why did you choose that name?”

Gerard grinned. “Because that’s what I wanted to show people. That’s what my little six-year-old brain thought of. I wanted Mikey and myself to be  _ the way _ for people, catch my drift?”

“...Aww!” Copia murmured. “ _ Che carino. _ ” 

Gerard chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. And it worked out after all these years.”

“Oh, I see you’re out of wine. Let me get you some more.” Copia reached for Gerard’s glass.

“Uh, thanks. That’s generous of y--” Copia’s fingers missed its trajectory and slid across the edge of the glass enough to have it slip out of Gerard’s hand and onto the floor. “Oh. Shit, you okay?”

_ “Si, sono così dispiaciuto _ . I’ll go find a broom at once.” Copia placed his own wine glass down and stood up quickly.

Gerard leaned back and watched him fuss about. Something was up with Copia, just slightly off-kilter, like a priceless painting in a crooked frame. Gerard tucked that thought away in the back of his mind. His fingers tapped lazily against the arm of the chair as he sat there in solitude for another minute, then finally stood and left the greenhouse to return to the mansion.

“Oh, there you are. You didn’t have to follow.” Copia’s cheeks were flushed pink. He was holding a small broom and dustpan in his hands. “If you’ll just allow me a moment, I’ll have the glass cleaned up.”

“Uh, mind if I have a look around? I’ve never been to one of these things before, so...you can’t blame me for being interested.” Gerard rubbed the back of his neck.

The cardinal’s eyes lit up. “Si, si! Please, be my guest!”

Gerard nodded in gratitude, pat Copia’s shoulder, and wandered back into the main party area where gazes turned in his direction again. Thankfully, it seemed like he hadn’t caught as much attention as before, but it was still something to get used to. As he glided slowly through dancers and costumed forms, he studied as much as he could about the room. A handful of people were crowded on a chaise, seemingly feeding on a body like vampires. The choreographed number from before seemed to have ended, from what he could tell, and there was no sign of Mary.

Curiously, he side-stepped to a grand stairwell leading to the second floor, where the party continued. The corridor was just full enough that he could still walk around, and all the doors were open for guests to invite themselves in. The air smelled more of incense up here, and there was a noticeable chill as if someone had opened all the windows. Some rooms were full of people sitting in circles, some rooms were occupied bedrooms of people clearly unashamed of what they were doing. A pair of double doors stood sort of ominously at the end of the hall, so he just decided to turn back and check out the third floor.

The noise difference between the second and third floor was almost a relief. Some party-goers still mulled about, and it smelled more like weed here. Gerard tried to quicken his exploration before he got a contact high. Only four doors were on this floor, and of course he was drawn to the only one that was closed. Holding his breath, he opened it and peeked inside.

It was a room that seemed so out of place, it threw him off. There was a heavy scent of wood chips and dander, and the walls were covered floor to ceiling in colorful tubes of various sizes. Giant fish tanks lined the corners of the room, though they were used as housing cages instead. The room was immaculately clean, save for the one human inhabitant. Mary was sitting in the middle of the floor, giggling quietly when he turned his head. Gerard didn’t want to know how he managed to get blood on his face again. “Oh, hey, could you close the door?”

Gerard did. When he stepped forward, he noticed two rats crawling across the singer’s lap. “Hey there, Mary,” he said awkwardly.

“You’re not afraid of a few rodents, are ya?” Mary asked, lifting a chestnut brown rat to kiss its nose. “How can anyone be so scared of these lil’ fuckers? Lemme introduce you.”

“Oh, okay--” Gerard minded his step, hearing that there must have been more crawling around the tubes, and sat down in front of Mary while keeping a safe distance.

“Right, so there’s six in all. These two lovely ladies are Cara and Bella. Over in the corner there, munchin’ on yogurt drops--” Mary pointed to a silver rat, bigger than all the others. “--that’s Sinatra, the black one in the yellow tube up there is Sangue. She bites, so watch out. The yellow one on the wheel over there is Tony. Short for Riga-Tony. And, oh! Look at that!” An albino rat sniffed at Gerard’s knee. “That’s Aether. Guess he likes you.”

Gerard blinked and lightly touched the top of its head. “Cute. I knew he liked rats when I was a kid, guess he never grew out of them.” When Aether hopped up on Gerard’s calf, he leaned back, supporting himself with his arms behind him. “So, are you close to Copia at all? Or is it strictly a business thing?”

Mary smirked deviously. “What you wanna know for?”

“It just looks like his depth perception’s off. That’s all. Is he blind or something?” Gerard kept his gaze down, but his brow arched.

Mary ran his tongue over his teeth. “What’s in it for me if I tell you?”

“One secret for another?” Gerard finally looked up. “You tell me about Copia, I’ll answer a question about the Antichrist.”

Mary lifted Bella onto his shoulder as he mulled it over, then nodded. “Here’s what I’ll let you know. There’s  _ much _ more to the Cardinal that meets the eye.” He pointed to his own left one for emphasis. “Okay, so what do I wanna know about the Antichrist? Hmmm...”

“Don’t make it weird,” Gerard warned him. “He’s still a kid.”

Mary scoffed. “Well, that eliminates a bunch of stuff.” Gerard couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, nor did he want to know. “How powerful would you say he is?”

Gerard stared at him warily. Mary was clearly proud of his question, so he tipped his head back and chose his words carefully. Now that Mikey was under the care of the College, he had a lot more control than he used to. And yet...

“More powerful than he realizes.”

The words hung there for a while, permeating both their minds. Mary finally gave a quiet hum. “Sick,” he muttered, slowly swirling his finger around the tip of Cara’s tail.

Gerard tried his hardest not to sigh in relief. He picked Aether up to pet him a few more times, then set him back down on the floor. He stood up slowly and headed for the door again. “I guess that’s it, then. I’m gonna get back. Thanks for all the introductions. And, uh...” He gave a vague roll of his eyes. “...good show tonight.”

“I knew you liked it,” Mary preened.

_ “Podex es,” _ Gerard muttered, hiding a smile before he left. As tempting as it was to ask for help getting home from someone on the second floor, he took an extra minute to think over trusting a stranger making a doorway back to a highly secret location, and he sighed, shaking his head. Despite the alluring gazes that turned his way when he passed them, he could only respond with an apologetic smile and continue back down to the main floor.

Without wasting time, Gerard sneaked outside to the front courtyard, where the same car that brought him here was waiting. Taking a deep breath, he slid in the back seat.

“The College, sir?” the driver asked, and with Gerard’s confirmation, the long and quiet ride started, letting him sink deep into his thoughts. The motivation was at its peak now, so there was no better time to act on it than tonight. Too many worrying thoughts about Mikey stuck to him, about whether or not he should tell him about leaving, but he didn’t want Mikey to talk him out of it.

If anyone in the world would be able to talk him out of it, it’d be Mikey.

Gerard pressed his face into his hands and breathed heavily, trying to keep himself calm. Instead of letting his brother’s angry face plague his thoughts, he just focused on listing the things he needed to do in order to start this new journey. Pastor Way. He needed a more focused point of magic on his body, first and foremost, and he needed to find out what Mary actually meant when he said,  _ “more than meets the eye” _ .

When he finally returned to one of the secret entrances of the College, he thanked the driver and left quickly. He refused to look at any of the Siblings he passed by, all of them confused as to what he was even doing awake at this hour. Some were aware he’d been missing for the past few hours, but he didn’t stop to answer any questions. He just locked himself in his dorm and scrambled for the seal he needed.

  
  


Gerard stared hard at the fire he sat in front of. The heat washed over his face, the white and yellow light making his vision waiver as he waited for the stamp of Seir’s sigil to heat up. Of course, it was a stamp that was only supposed to be made for making  _ wax _ seals, but in his mind, this was the easiest way to get this done. By the time the metal was nearly glowing, he grabbed the handle and listed it out of the flame.

With his sleeve rolled up, Gerard took a few deep breaths. “C’mon, it’s gonna get cold,” he grunted at himself, positioning the hot metal over his exposed arm. This was better than carving into his skin, it was better than a tattoo. No-- just thinking about tattoos made him imagine needles, which made his stomach acid roil. “Do it, pussy!”

Ray did this just fine. He could do it, too. He was a goddamn Emeritus. “Okay. Okay, it’ll be fine. Just. Do it.”

His hand shook, but he clenched his jaw and slammed the stamp down right under his inner elbow. The muscles seized up and his nerves up and down the whole arm flared up in pain, and once he remembered how to breathe, he cried out and jerked his head away. The stamp only stayed against his skin for a few seconds, but the pain pulsed harder once he pulled it away.

At least he didn’t pass out. He was sweating like Frank in a confessional, a thought he paused to laugh at, but he didn’t pass out. The stamp rolled out of his hand and onto the floor, and once the initial dizziness subsided, he forced himself to look at the seal. The second wave of dizziness hit him, and he swallowed hard and straightened his posture. It looked fine, at least the details were prominent and he wasn’t bleeding. But  _ fuck, _ it hurt.

“Next step. Get up,” he thought aloud, and pushed himself to his feet. He nearly fell over, but by sheer force of will and spreading his stance, was able to keep himself upright. Taking a few more deep breaths, he walked over to the bathroom and shuffled around the shelves, tossing in various healing herbs in his bath and doused them all in lukewarm water. As the tub filled, he took the most vigilant care getting undressed as to not add to the pain, and he practically slithered into the bath, his whole body immediately shivering at the stark differences in temperature, and it made him sweat even more. He was nervous that he was just going to crack apart and crumble to pieces before his muscles finally loosened up. Exhaling with a groan, he sank under the surface until the burn in his arm dulled.

Pulling himself up again, he caught his breath and pulled the chain around his neck off, feeling the weight dangle between his fingers as he stared at the Grucifix. He couldn’t remember a time anymore where it wasn’t so close to his heart, already it felt like a phantom limb, removed from its place. And yet it just didn’t feel like a part of him anymore. It was time for a change, an overdue one. He huffed and gained the motivation to leave the bath quickly so he could grab scissors and a trash can, placing the latter beside the tub so he wouldn’t clog the drain.

Lock by lock, the shoulder-length hair fell from his scalp, leaving an inch in length all around. He kept rubbing his palm over his head. The fuzzy feeling was so foreign, and he trembled with nervous and uncertain laughter. It was different, but it was right. After getting out of the bath again, he took clippers just to even out the length, and went through the process of dying it twice, since the first time ended up an ugly orange. He was left with the color of hay, which was sufficient for now considering the burn against his scalp warned him not to go through another process.

Once he was finally dried off fully and dressed in plain black jeans and a short sleeved button-up, he felt a strange weight on his heart. Mikey. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take Mikey with him when he left. He’d known this all along, but now the realization was hitting him full force. Considering the hour of 5AM, it would be a shame to wake him and immediately get in an argument, a terrible way to start a day off. Of course, the only other option he could think of was worse, but he’d rather avoid the fight.

Gerard fished around for his notepad and ripped a page out and picked up a pen, taking time to really choose his words.

_ Mikey, _

His hands were shaking. “Get it together, asshole,” he muttered to himself.

_ It’s time you go to Vadstena. They’ve been waiting for your presence for too long now, and I’m tired of holding you back. You’re going to know what to do, and you’ll be okay. Ray will be with you again sooner than you know it, and our paths will cross again. It’s your time to rise. _

He dropped the pen, the sound of it clattering to the floor echoing through his brain as he read the words over and over again. “Okay. Okay, this is happening. Make it happen.” He placed his Grucifix in his pocket and stepped out of his room, and down the hall to let himself into Mikey’s room.

Mikey was still sleeping in the armchair, with a heap of blankets spilling all over the edges of the chair and the mask cradled in his crossed arms. Gerard sighed softly and approached him silently, bending over to kiss his cheek. Mikey stirred quietly, but his eyes didn’t open. Gerard exhaled shakily and left the sheet of paper on the chair’s arm beside Mikey’s face, and left him to keep sleeping.

When he returned to his own door, he stared down at the raw scar on his arm, and pressed his other hand over it with a heavy groan. “Secondo,” he spoke to the sigil, and a wave of dizziness crept up through the base of his brain, spreading over his whole head. “Take me to Secondo.” Then, he opened the door.

  
  
  
  


Mikey woke at sunrise, when two Brothers knocked on his door. “Antichrist?” one asked. “We’ve brought you breakfast.” His head was aching, and he huffed indignantly. He was careful not to let the mask fall, placing it safely amongst the blankets when he noticed the new paper awaiting him. When he picked it up, he could already feel a shiver crawl through his nerves.

“Gerard...” he whispered, and leaped to run to the door. Throwing it open, he stared at the Brothers, wild-eyed and frantic. “Where the fuck is Gerard?”

Both of them were immediately at a loss. “Is...is he not here, my lord?”

Mikey slid past them and raced to Gerard’s room, even angrier upon finding it empty. “Gerard!” he shouted, nearly tearing the room apart as if Gerard had tucked himself inside some crevice. Alas, he was nowhere to be found, and Mikey was shaking violently by the end of it. “GERARD!”

One of the Brothers lingered nervously by the doorway. “We can...send out a search party for him,” he offered.

Mikey grabbed at his hair and paced a few times, eventually shaking his head. “No. I’ll find him myself.” Without thinking, he closed the door between them and drew a symbol for Vadstena. He took a few final seconds to keep himself together, though the walls around him started cracking, and his muscles and bones quaked with energy. But he couldn’t walk in there with the desire to hurt Gerard, so he waited until he was calm, and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took all of my willpower not to write copia saying “seestor”. also copia riding a tricycle into the wall lives in my head rent free, and was a minor inspiration for some things to come later.
> 
> as you can see, 1996 is split up into two parts because halfway through writing this chapter, yknow when ideas just kinda hit you? yeah. anyway. thanks for reading! honestly 56 hits is a lot more than i ever expected this far 💖


	5. 1996 (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ways finally find their homes. Gerard makes a revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my brain: make a part 2 to the previous chapter without any previous planning.  
> also my brain, in a vine voice: done and done, let me pull the chapter out of my ass!!!!!!!! 🙃🙃🙃
> 
> sorry if this one jumps around a lot, but it's got a p heavy plot point. i don't think there's a content warning for this one, except nihil being a bit weird.

Mikey walked through the doorway.

Everyone suddenly seemed hyper-aware that there was a powerful presence in the Abbey, and the tension thickened.

He wasn’t so sure this was a good idea anymore, but he was determined to find his brother and kick his ass for even thinking of leaving. The anger didn’t do well for the energy he carried with him, but Mikey was beyond caring at that point. As he walked determinedly down the cold corridor, stupidly uncomfortable spats clicking against the black and white tiles, it didn’t take long for him to attract attention.

At first, the two Sisters had no idea who he was, but they wore expressions of confused fright. “Who...are you?” the one on the left asked. “How did you get in here?”

“I’m looking for Gerard Emeritus. He was here,” Mikey stated. It ached slightly to say his birth name.

The Sisters glanced at each other, and muttered amongst themselves quickly. Mikey could tell that whatever news they had, it wasn’t easy to confess, so they were afraid of speaking. Eventually, the one on the right cleared her throat. “Gerard...has left. He confronted the Papas some hours ago, then said he was going...home?”

Mikey’s brow knotted. The air in the corridor sharpened and grew colder. “Where are the Papas?”

“Primo is in the garden...Secondo is out on a hunt. Nihil is resting in his chambers--”

“Show me the gardens, then.”

“...Then whom shall I address you as?”

“The Antichrist.”

In any other case, Mikey would have made for a completely unconvincing Antichrist, still dressed in his torn jeans and a baggy black hoodie. What he didn’t know, though, was the ghostly outline of six wings behind him. The Sisters both lowered onto their knees and bowed their heads. Other Siblings immediately took interest and turned their heads, all eyes wide in awe. Those who were in Mikey’s view also knelt and bowed. “Unholy majesty,” they all muttered.

Mikey was actually surprised, glancing down at himself.  _ Cool, it really worked, _ he thought, then immediately returned to his serious mindset. “Take me to Primo.”

The two sisters rose back up while the others remained kneeling, but they kept their heads bowed as they led Mikey through the halls. The whole wall that separated the inside of the building to the garden was all stained glass, murals of Papas long gone by and giant blooms surrounding their visages. It reminded him of a funeral. “Just this way, unholy majesty,” one of the Sisters said, gesturing to the plain glass doors.

Mikey suddenly hesitated when he remembered that the sun was up. It had just risen, yes, so he had to take an extra second to convince himself that he was going to be fine. He didn’t have to stay outside long, and it probably wouldn’t even affect him if he wasn’t directly under the light.

“Is everything alright?”

His brow knotted, and he continued onto the doors. When he stepped through, he squinted at the sky, but the air was cool and the surrounding trees and bushes towered high enough for him to feel safe. He was immediately welcomed by the scent of snapdragons, and he could hear distant murmuring. He followed the path until it forked, then headed toward the voice until he came upon an old man talking sweetly to a bush of red and yellow carnations. He stopped and turned his head.

“Papa, forgive us for interrupting,” one of the Sisters said, both of them standing a small distance behind him. “This is--”

“I know who he is.” Primo wiped his hands clean of any dirt, then stepped forward and took one of Mikey’s hands. He placed a kiss to his knuckle. “The Antichrist. I’m surprised I lived long enough to finally meet you again.”

“Thank you for your help,” Mikey turned his head and nodded to the Sisters. “You may go now.” When they did so, he eyed Primo, studying him. He seemed humble, yet worn-down and tired. Mikey could tell from just the light touch of their hands that the old man has worked harder than anyone he’d ever met before. A man of dedication. Maybe he could ask questions later, but he was on a mission. “What happened to Gerard?”

“Please, will you sit with me?” He gestured to a stone bench in front of heliotrope bushes.

Mikey nodded and sat down with him. He didn’t even realize his hands had started to tremble, and he loosely hugged himself as he waited for his answers.

“I’m not sure how much you knew prior to this news. Nevertheless, I’ll be forward as to not waste your time. Your brother--” He reached into his pocket and pulled out Gerard’s Grucifix. “--has renounced his title.”

  
  
  
  


Nihil, Primo, and Secondo nearly jumped out of their skins when the office door flung open. They sprang to their feet, Secondo suddenly brandishing a dagger, but then they all gave a collective sigh of relief a mere second later when they recognized Gerard. The relief, though, was then replaced by frustration.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Secondo scolded him.

Gerard glared at him as he leaned against the door frame, catching his breath. “Don’t worry, I won’t waste a lot of your time.” Forcing himself to stand straight, he closed the door behind him, cutting off the rift between Vadstena and Rome.

Unlike the brothers, Nihil seemed delighted. “Gerard! How wonderful it is to see you!”

Gerard’s expression clearly gave the impression that Nihil was about to change his opinion in a moment. “I came here with important news.”

“What happened to the Antichrist?” Primo asked with worry.

“Nothing. He’s perfectly fine, he’s not the reason I came here. It’s about me. You’ll probably want to sit for this.” Gerard gestured to the chairs the popes all hovered over.

The three of them sat down slowly, staring at him in anticipation.

“I can promise you, I have been devout the moment I left this church. I have prayed, I have listened to His Signs, and I have done all I can to follow the path He’d made for me. But my path isn’t--” Gerard bit his tongue hard and huffed. “--it isn’t here.”

Secondo looked like he was about to pop a vein. “You get that blasphemous thought out of your head this instant.”

“Listen, it’s not my fault I struggled to see my relevancy here when I was gone from this place for two whole decades. Okay? Primo...”

Primo paled, unable to look Gerard in the eye.

“This is what He wants for me, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life! I...I’m really sorry, all I wanted to do when I was little was make you all proud, but I can’t do that while also being true to myself.”

“Then perhaps you should bury your truth a little,” Secondo spat. “You will not leave what you were born to do. It’s absolutely forbidden.”

“Why?!” Gerard stepped forward. “Why can’t Terzo just have a son? I don’t see the problem here.”

The three of them all glanced at each other nervously.

“What, did you all just magically become infertile? Or...” Gerard’s eyes fell to Nihil. “Wait.”

“Before you jump to conclusions,” Nihil cut him off, raising a hand at chest level. “Let’s not worry about that right now. Gerard, you  _ are _ the last of our line. Our blood has led this church for nine millennia.”

“Imperator already got to the others. If there were others, but I assume there were.”

“Ah-- I said, not important.” Nihil stood up and circled the desk so he could stand directly in front of Gerard. “My boy, you have a great and magnificent destiny ahead of you.” He pressed his fingers gently under his chin and examined his features, then frowned. “Hm...your soul is quite troubled.”

Gerard’s brow knotted.

“Whatever it is, we’ll mend him.” Secondo stood next. “We’ll prepare him for the future.”

Nihil stared Gerard down with a sudden intensity he didn’t know how to handle. Gerard felt trapped, locked in place. “ _ Mors stupebit et natura, _ ” Nihil began to quote. “ _ Cum resurget creatura, Judicanti responsura. _ ”

Gerard finally shut his eyes tight after feeling his skin grow cold. “You know what?” He backed away from Nihil’s hands. “You’re right. I do have magnificent things in store for me.” He reached up to pull the Grucifix from his pocket, and he placed it in Nihil’s empty hands. “But they’re not here. I’ve worked too hard where I grew up to leave it all behind.”

“Gerard!” Secondo warned him. “You will not leave your place.”

“You’re not my keeper. None of you are, and none of you can change my mind!” Gerard’s fists clenched, but he relaxed them once he felt his nails bite into the heels of his palms. “So, that’s it. I’m going home.” He gave one final bow to Nihil and Primo before reaching for the door handle. When he opened the door leading into the hallway of the Vadstena, he flipped Secondo off and left the room.

Nihil stared down at the pendant in his hand, almost seeming helpless. He turned back to his sons, and none of them could think of anything else to say.

  
  
  


Mikey was folded over, clutching the pendant to his chest. “All he told me was to come here, because it was time. No-- he didn’t even  _ tell _ me in person. He fucking wrote me a note. Can you believe that?”

Primo gently rubbed his back. “As an older brother myself, I understand the difficulty of having to say no to my younger brothers. To look them in the eye, sometimes, and tell them news that they simply refuse to come to terms with. I’m not saying it was right for Gerard to leave you without a proper goodbye, but I could only imagine the pain he was suffering. What he must be feeling right now, being away from you.”

“Then bring him back!” Mikey sat up quickly, a harsh gust of wind rustling the surrounding flowers. “Do whatever it takes. I know he still wants to be here, deep down inside.”

Primo smiled sadly. “If our dark Lord truly wishes for Gerard to return, he’ll find his way back. But sometimes, we must simply let others discover their own way.”

Mikey scoffed at the phrasing.

“Even if they’re fucking up the lineage...” Primo added under his breath. “Nevertheless, it’s a momentous occasion that you’re finally here. Will you stay?”

Mikey kept his face pointed to the ground, idly glancing over the carnations. He couldn’t understand why, but he could sympathize with the way their stems bent and their petals slightly wilted. The more he stared at them, the more they drooped, and he sighed and closed his eyes. No need to take out his anger on innocent flowers.

“I need to return to Rome and get my stuff.” he muttered, pushing his hair back with one hand. “But it’s not like I have anywhere else to go now, so I’ll stay.”

“I promise you, Antichrist. You will not find yourself lonely here.”

Mikey couldn’t find the words to respond. He felt in the pit of his heart that Primo was wrong already, but he didn’t have it in him to upset the guy any further.

“We can send for your things so you don’t have to retrieve them yourself--”

“No.” Mikey shook his head and lifted his gaze. “No, I don’t want anyone else touching it. I’ll handle that.” He stood slowly, placing the pendant around his neck for the time being. It felt off, wearing two Grucifixes at the same time, but he could manage that later. As he turned toward a small structure, something akin to a mausoleum, he hummed. “Hey, can I borrow that door for a moment?”

Primo lifted a brow. “...Sure.”

“Thanks, Papa.” Mikey nodded and walked over, drawing the sigil to get him back to his room in Rome. “I should be back in an hour or so, don’t worry about preparations. I know I snuck up on you.”

“It’s no trouble,” Primo gave a lazy wave. “See you soon, Antichrist.”

Mikey sighed to himself. He wanted to give him his name, the one he was comfortable with, but his thoughts were a mess, and he didn’t know if he could handle someone calling him Mikey at the moment without losing it. Giving a gentle shake of his head, he just made his own doorway back to Rome and stepped through.

The dormitory seemed colder now, duller. The responsible thing would be to tell everyone he was packing up and moving to Vadstena, and though he planned on following through with it, the thought left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. At least he had the common decency to alert people of his sudden absence. Groaning to himself, Mikey opened his door again and walked down the corridor so he could meet with the council that watched over this place, a cabinet of studious older Brothers and Sisters who were old enough to be his grandparents. A group he wasn’t very fond of, either, but he had to do what was necessary.

Thankfully, the conversation went over...not horribly. His news took them by surprise, certainly, and the work they were doing looking into his abilities were far from over, but there wasn’t too much of an issue continuing his progression from Sweden. If it was time for him to be at Vadstena, they simply could not argue.

When Mikey was finally able to get his things together, he stopped in Gerard’s room first. It was still a mess from when he tore it up, though there were a few Siblings already in the room, trying to fix things. He dismissed them for the time being, and immediately approached the wardrobe to pull out all the shirts that remained from Jersey. If Gerard hadn’t come back and claimed them, then Mikey figured he had free dibs. He stuffed the shirts in a duffel bag, along with a few pocket knives and eyeliner.

He moved on to his own room next, and the first thing he grabbed was Ray’s mask. The structure of it, in a whole, was durable. Still, he felt bad for shoving it in with the rest of his things, so he took the two black ribbons in the back and tied it tightly around his belt loop. When it came to everything else, he really underestimated how much he probably  _ did _ need to bring back with him. All the books he’d been reading about demonology, not to mention all the comics and issues of Fangoria, the action figures, the salves he kept after he’d trudge back from the scholars in exhaustion...

Letting the bag flop down on the floor, he groaned. He hated when everything felt like it was happening all at the same time. Rubbing his eyes, he started off easy and shoved as many clothes would fit in the bag and zipped it closed, and just tried to keep moving around the room so the looming dread wouldn’t set in. There was only so much he could re-organize, though, and no boxes to toss anything in, which let the frustration in first, and he tried not to make a whole new mess for the Siblings to clean up.

Eventually, he sucked up the humility to ask for help packing his things up, though he made sure they weren’t a priority. It was too much to deal with; all he wanted to do was just crawl back into a nest and sleep off all this bitterness. Once he finally said goodbye to his material possessions, he made another door and returned to Vadstena.

  
  
  
  


Gerard twitched harshly in his sleep, gasping for breath until his eyes flew open. His hands flew up to slap at his chest, trying to swat away the feel of ghostly hands on him. He flinched when he felt unexpected pain, and found his ribs tensing up, making it more difficult to breathe.

“Hey, you’re safe,” a soft voice called out, and a pale hand held out a glass with a straw sticking out of it. “Try not to move too much, Gerard, you were super delirious.”

His lashes fluttered as he continued trying to inhale. Dizziness surged through his head, and he pressed his palm against his forehead. “Fuck--”

“C’mon, drink some water. I promise that’s all it is.” She nudged the tip of his straw against his lips, and she smiled when he started drinking. “Small sips.”

When Gerard got a better look at her, he came upon the familiar visage of a friend from Jersey. Her dark purple, nearly black hair was pulled back, save for the bangs that hung over her brow. Her deep brown eyes looked him over, glancing at what he would soon discover were various bandages over his body.

“Can I touch you? Just wanna check your temperature and pulse and stuff.” she whispered, setting the glass aside. She moved his hand so she could place the back of hers against his forehead. “Shit, you’re running a little cold. Let me get you another blanket.”

“Lindsey?” Gerard croaked. He lifted his hand again to slide his fingers between hers.

Her smile grew bright as she rummaged through the nearby closet. “You remember me! That’s a relief.” As Gerard’s hearing improved, he noticed more sounds of moving around. “When people realized that you appeared out of the blue, they came rushing to see if you were okay. We were all like, whoa! Gerard Way fell out of the fuckin’ sky, wonder if he accidentally time traveled or something.” She chuckled and unfolded a fleece Hello Kitty cover over him, then the smile fell. “Did you time travel? Nah, your hair’s different. You couldn’t’ve.”

Once Gerard could actually breathe properly, he stretched his legs out. He was laying on a sofa, or at least it felt like his ankles pressed against the arm of one. The walls looked completely unfamiliar. “Where am I?”

“The communal apartment, or so we call it. It’s me, Bobert, and a few others that come and go.” She stroked his hand slowly. “Or, did you mean, like, bigger picture? Because we live in Staten Island now. Things kinda sucked after the Church of Way got demolished, so some of us packed up and moved. Others moved in different directions, though.”

“It wasn’t a ch-- WHAT?!” Gerard sat up.

Lindsey jumped a little. “Gee, that place was never gonna last, you know that. It wasn’t actually ours.” She sighed. “Besides, people that lived closeby kept calling the cops and claimed we were doing sacrifices there or some shit. Which we never did.”

Gerard pressed a hand to his stomach. His face scrunched painfully. “Shit...we worked so hard on that place.”

“Sit back, sugar. You’re wounded.” She pulled his legs toward her so she could rest his feet on the floor, and nudged his shoulders back. “There you go. So-- can I ask about, uh, what happened?”

“Did I really fall out of the sky?” He swallowed hard.

“No, not really. But you might as well have.” She grabbed the water again, making sure he could hold it on his own, despite how she enjoyed holding it for him. “But, uh, Bob and I were pickin’ up some stuff at the store, and on our way back, you just kinda stumbled into the middle of the street and passed out.”

“You almost made me hit you, asshole,” Bob chimed in from another room.

“Good to see you, too.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Anyway. we got out and looked at you, and we couldn’t believe it. So, clearly, we took you in because you weren’t a hospital type of guy last I remember, and the damage didn’t look too bad anyway. All except that nasty...whatever happened to your arm. Just some minor cuts and bruising besides that. Oh, and...” Her expression fell again. “Uh, you weren’t wearing your necklace when we found you.”

He nodded. “Yeah, no. I know.”

She raised a brow. “But-- that thing was like your second skin. You got super sensitive about it. And your eye is showing, is that okay now, too?”

“Shit happened. I’m, uh, starting over. Again. I guess.” He dropped his head with a sigh. “Thanks so much for takin’ me in, you didn’t have to do that. But I’m so happy to be around familiar faces again. I can explain things better when my brain doesn’t feel like firecrackers.”

Lindsey quietly cleared her throat. “Can I, uh, ask about--” She pointed to his bandaged elbow. “Did someone do that to you?”

He shook his head. “It helps me get to places where I’m needed a lot quicker.” There was an incessant urge to unwrap the gauze and pick at the wound, but he just poked lightly at it instead.

“Where you’re needed, huh?” She smirked and pushed herself to stand. “I’ll make you some toast. I mean it, don’t move.”

He scrunched his nose at her.

  
  
  
  


Vadstena seemed to be in a rush by the time Mikey returned. It seemed that they did, against his wishes, worry about preparations. He made sure to steer clear of Siblings hurrying up and down the halls, all of them apologizing to him with light bows as they continued on, but the situation just made him laugh to himself. Even as the Antichrist, he still had a difficult time wrapping his head around the idea that he was important enough for people to make such a fuss over him.

He explored the ground floor for a few minutes until he came upon the doors to the main chapel; an enormous, overwhelming room of black and gold spires adorned in macabre murals and statues of the more human-like demons. Even still, there was no way he could take in all the little details unless he dedicated hours looking at every inch of the place. Mikey slowly walked past the pews, even that took two minutes in total, his pulse picking up speed as he got closer to the altar. It was on a raised platform, much like a stage, and four staircases in the center behind a waist-height wooden gate. This place felt too familiar to him, though he was sure he’d never seen it before. But he could feel it in his gut, he felt warmer here. The air was cleaner to him. When he reached the altar, he touched the top of the banner draped over it gently, then jumped and turned around.

“Oh, no, did Primo let in another stray?” Nihil hobbled forward, his hands tucked in his sleeves. “Would you like me to take you to our resources? We know many nice hostels if you need a place to st--” He stopped at the front pew to lean on it, then squinted and pursed his lips. “You’re not just a stray, are you?”

Mikey snorted. “I mean...yeah, I kind of am. You’re Papa Nihil, right?”

“You’re very humble for an Antichrist,” Nihil eyed him up and down with an amused smile. “Did they not dress you well in Rome?”

“I lived in lower-class America for 14 years. Nobody can ever get me to dress well for too long.” Mikey smirked. “Sorry if I don’t meet your expectations.”

“Funny, too!” Nihil held a hand out. “Come on. I can give you a quick run-down about this place and show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Mikey looked at the altar one more time and took a deep breath, then stepped toward Nihil as he exhaled. He clutched the strap of his bag extra tightly, half-surprised that he and Nihil were close to the same height. “So I guess you guys do mass here every Saturday night, too?”

Nihil nodded, resting his hand on Mikey’s upper arm. “You don’t have to be there for this week’s while everything is still being set up, but we’re planning on announcing your arrival in the next few days. So...every time after that is required. You’re very high in demand, my boy.”

Mikey nodded, biting his tongue.  _ Great. _

“You’ll never have to worry about anything here. All we require from you is that you show up to mass every week and make some other public appearances.”

“...That’s it?” Mikey raised a brow. “That can’t be it.”

“Just to start off. I’ve heard word that you get overwhelmed easily, so we don’t want to put too much on your shoulders at once.” Nihil pat his shoulder.

Mikey frowned. “I’m fine. Just because Gerard’s not around anymore doesn’t mean that I can’t handle things. It’s like you said, people have been waiting for me. So I might as well make myself useful here, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Hesitation flooded Nihil’s gaze for a moment as he stared at Mikey, and he gave a crooked smile. “Yes. Of course,” he responded, because he was not in the mood for telling the Antichrist  _ no _ . “When you are ready, this place will be yours, after all. I’m sorry if I insinuated anything otherwise. But you are still very young, and there is so much that you must learn.”

“I will,” Mikey stated.

“I know.” Nihil looked forward again, and they ascended a long flight of stairs. “How was it in America? Was it easy to draw people to you, to show them the ways of our Lord?”

“Gerard had a better time with that, but I was with him through almost every step. We’d get chased by the cops every so often, though, and there were a lot of Catholics around where we lived. If He was watching us, He was really into giving us a challenge.”

“It will get easier from here on out. Now that you’re home, you have everything at your disposal, and all the Sisters you could possibly want.”

Mikey raised a brow.

“Or...brothers?”

“I’m 15, Papa. Just something to keep in mind.”

Nihil shrugged. “Very well. Anyway, we’re coming up on your room.” He gestured to two ornate double doors. “It was your brother’s when he was a child, so I hope it suits your needs well.”

Mikey’s jaw clenched. Fucking typical, all he ever gets are Gerard’s hand-me-downs. Even his goddamn  _ room _ . “Thanks,” he muttered off-handedly. “You can go now, I want some time for myself.” He slowly pulled away from Nihil’s hand.

Nihil nodded. “It’s very good to finally have you here. I look forward to getting to know you better,” he said cheerily before turning away.

Mikey pushed the doors open and stared into his new room without stepping in just yet. It was just as lavish as his dorm in Rome, if not even more so with the red and orange stainglass window of a Sister of Sin, her face painted like a skull, holding what he only assumed to be himself as a newborn. His eyes were blacked out, and a deep crimson halo circled his head. He didn’t look at it for too long, his eyes falling to the mask and the pendant in his hands. Crossing the floor, he knelt on his bed and hung the pendant first over his headboard. Gerard’s note, which he’d crumpled in anger, got shoved in the back of the chest beside the bed. He sat back, his body suddenly feeling too heavy to move. Keeping the mask in his hands, he stared down at it blankly. His thumbs rubbed slowly over the black lacquer surface, tracing the eye holes. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just come see you right now.”

“Mikey?” a soft voice called out to him. A woman’s voice, but the word sent a spark through his nerves and made him turn back to the open doorway. A Sister of Sin was bowing to him respectfully. “Forgive me-- a-am I allowed to call you that?”

“Come in,” he said automatically, though he was still tense. He almost wanted to snap at her for assuming she was close enough to call him something so personal, but he wanted to know  _ where _ she heard the name from. Not even the Papas addressed him as Mikey. “So, I guess you’ve met Gerard before?” he asked as he hung the mask up beside Gerard’s Grucifix.

“I know both of you well enough, but not as much as I wish I did.” When she got closer, he could see Gerard’s nose and browbone, and it was enough to make a connection. She stood a respectful distance, keeping her hands folded and her gaze down, but it was clear that she was trying to hold tears back. There was something else about her, though, something invisible. Mikey almost felt a magnetic pull towards her, something that gently tugged at his ribs and tried to gesture that it was safe to get closer.

Still, it was difficult to believe. He glanced in between her face and the face on the window, squinting. “Are you--” He hesitated, almost afraid of asking in fear of being wrong. There was no other way to know, though. “--You’re Gee’s and my mother, aren’t you?”

She nodded, her smile growing. “I saw Gerard some years ago, when Papa III was in Newark.”

“Wait,  _ what?!”  _ If Mikey wasn’t tense before... “He never told me that. Neither did...um, Alpha. On top of that, I was under the impression that you were dead.” He swallowed bitterness, trying not to take anything unnecessary out on her. Not like any of this was her fault, and she seemed so happy to see him. Guilt settled on him instead, wishing he could feel even half the amount of relief or joy she had. “You can sit down. Want some, uh, water or anything?”

She shook her head, and slowly sat down beside him on the bed, still keeping a gap of space between them. “It’s alright, I doubt whether you knowing I was alive or not would have made too much of a difference.”

“It would’ve,” he corrected her. “It woulda been nice knowing there was at least one more person that cared about me out there. I’m not feeling a lot of that right now, so...it helps. Your presence helps.”

“Thank you for saying that.” She took a deep breath. “So, you’re finally taking up permanent residence here. Are you excited to be home?”

His throat tightened up, and he fought the urge to turn his head back to the mask and pendant. “I’m sure I will...in time. It’s just a lot to adjust to, right now. Especially on my own. And knowing I’m closer than ever to Sister Imperator isn’t all that thrilling, either.”

“I promise, you do not have to worry about her. She’s under so many wards, your father Himself would have difficulty clawing His way to her.”

Mikey shrugged. “I mean, I guess I wasn’t the one she was planning on murdering, but things are different now. I’m not afraid of her, it’s just weird to think of having to live in the same place that holds a vendetta against someone who raised me.”

Sister Madonna nodded softly.

His gaze wandered for a moment before falling back to her face, and he idly picked at the small scab on the back of his hand. “You...can call me Michael, if you want. Alpha does.”

“Michael.” With the way she smiled, Mikey’s tension ebbed away a little. “Thank you. I just wanted to...come and see if you were settling in alright, I know big changes can sometimes be intimidating.”

“Yeah. It’s alright,” Mikey assured her. His foot nudged the duffel bag on the floor. “I don’t have much stuff with me, and I was told everything else was gonna be provided for me, or something. But thanks, it was really nice of you to come see me. I’m glad you’re alive.”

“So am I.” She gently stroked his cheek before standing up again. “I need to return to my chores, but I’ll see you around, Michael.”

Mikey straightened his posture and smiled lazily. “Yeah, you will.” After she’d left the room, he flopped back on the bed and stared, eyes glossed over at the mask. “Sometimes I hate how you always got something meaningful to say...”

  
  
  
  


The next week, Lindsey had taken Gerard out around the neighborhood so he could get a feel of his new environment. It wasn’t too different from Jersey, though it was more crowded. He took that as a blessing. As his eyes took in the shops on the main street, he tried to keep an eye out for any place that looked more run-down than usual, or perhaps a more lonely, unloved church.

“Gerard.” Lindsey tapped his shoulder. “Check it out. Mikey made the news.”

They stopped by a magazine stand, and it turned out Mikey’s face had made it to four different covers.  _ The Antichrist Has Arisen! _ ,  _ What Does The Vatican Have To Say? _ ,  _ The Tragic Story of Satan’s Son _ \--

Gerard took a deep breath. Well, at least it seemed like he was more well off than ever before now, and that’s all he wanted for him in the first place. Mikey was finally where he belonged. He smiled wearily.

“Hey, you okay?” Lindsey asked him, shaking him from his thoughts.

“Hm?” Gerard nodded. “Oh. Yeah. I told you I wasn’t lying, but I know how hard it is to believe that kinda shit. Don’t blame you.”

Lindsey nudged him again. “You think you’re ever gonna be in a five-page spread like that?”

“The goal isn’t about  _ fame _ , it’s just about teaching people not to fall to submission.” Gerard nudged her back. “No god should have dominion over you. It’s your life, you should know what’s best for it.”

“Here’s to that,” the cashier at the stand chimed in, and her eyes widened. “Wow. Is that eye real?”

Gerard snorted. “Nah, it’s just a body mod...” he lied, and then something dawned on him. His expression blanked as if his soul had immediately vacated his body.

_ “There’s much more to the Cardinal than meets the eye.” _

The eye was a fake. "Shit." Gerard pushed his hair back. “Holy fucking shit, it's a fucking fake...I need a library.” He gripped Lindsey’s shoulders. “As soon as possible, is there one around here?”

“Can we just grab coffee first? What gives anyway?” she asked, more worried than anything. “Is Mikey okay?”

“It’s not about Mikey-- there’s still stuff I haven’t explained to you yet, but I will. Just fucking...point me in the direction of the library and get your coffee and meet me there if you want. Please.” He made extra sure not to raise his voice, though his hands were shaking.

“Gerard. Breathe.” She took his hands, pressed them together, and rubbed his knuckles slowly with her fingers. “Your idea or your revelation or whatever the fuck just happened isn’t gonna vanish. It’s coffee time.” Taking his arm, she pulled him into the coffee shop just a few feet over and got a black coffee in his hands. “If you want, you can ramble your thoughts off to me, even if I won’t get it right away.”

Gerard inhaled deeply, and took the longest sip of coffee he ever had in his life. Okay, she was right, coffee helps a lot, but it still felt like his brain wanted to melt. By the time she was done adding cream and sugar to her own and they made it back outside, his shaking had stopped, at least. “So there’s this cardinal.”

“The bird or the clergy position?”

“Clergy cardinal.” He tutted at her.

“Sorry! Just wanted to make sure.”

“His name’s Copia. He used to be my best friend when I was a kid until I had to leave for my safety, and I saw him again recently. He’s actually the first actual person I told about leaving the church for real, because, yeah, I know.” He noticed how her face fell to shock. “Listen. He’s only 27, okay? I wasn’t best friends with a full-ass adult. But he must be really fucking good at what he does, because he’s already one of the highest fucking ranks in the church, and get this. He also has the eye.”

“A fake eye?”

“Yeah! I’m so sure of it now. I was too dumb to notice as a kid, but...I dunno. I just know.”

Lindsey nodded and sipped her coffee slowly. “Turn left,” she told him, and they crossed the street. “And now...you wanna know why he has a fake eye?” 

“Yeah. Nobody just fucking  _ steals _ an eye of our bloodline for fun.”

“Nobody really steals eyes for fun,  _ period _ .” Lindsey added, smirking. She caught a look from Gerard. “I’m right, though.”

“It just baffles me, because Copia is...really cool. I mean, he’s clumsy and not really intimidating the way a Papa should be, but he’s got charm. He’s soft. He just doesn’t seem like the kinda guy that would get caught up in a conspiracy like this.”

“But you said he’s, like, the youngest cardinal ever or something right?”

Gerard groaned. “Yeah.” He got the message that he shouldn’t trust so easily, and that only made his thoughts worse.

“Down this alley.” Lindsey grabbed his wrist and tugged him along through a shortcut, where they ended up in the back of the library. “I’m not really sure the religion section here  _ may _ cover current Satanic conspiracies, but I’m still gonna help you try.”

They circled around the building and went inside, darting to the reference section. Lindsey was right; they scoured the shelves for hours trying to find anything historical or on sorcery. Gerard moved onto the internet next, Lindsey pulling up a chair behind him and leaning her chin against his shoulder, opening so many windows that the computer threatened to crash.

“Okay...okay.” Gerard took a deep breath. “Copia still had the eye when I was a kid, which means he might have gotten it at his birth.”

“Who does body mods on a baby?” Lindsey cringed.

He snorted. “Imperator’s fucked up,” he muttered, and downed the last of his coffee. Lindsey got up to toss the cup out for him, since hers was empty as well, and he kept switching from window to window until he stopped to read an article on Nihil. “Oh. Fuck. Nihil started getting inoperable cataracts during 1969. That’s when Copia was born. That’s likely where she got the eye from. So--”

Lindsey shifted her chair so that she was sitting beside him instead, and she slowly ran a hand down his back.

“Wait, if Copia wasn’t  _ actually _ born with the eye, that means he’s not really an heir. That-- God, I’m so fucking  _ dumb _ .” He shoved his face into his hands. “That’s why everyone kept saying I was next in line instead of him. How did this not occur to me?”

“Because you had a lot of other shit going on,” Lindsey reminded him. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, Gee.”

His body tensed for a moment, but her hand against his back eased him. “...Thanks. Guess it’s better late than never, right?”

“Yeah.” Her smile grew, then she glanced at the screen again. “So, we know where the eye came from. Now we gotta find out why?”

“And how, even. A feat like that isn’t a street magician’s trick, y’know?” Gerard closed out of all the windows. “We can’t find that sort of shit on the internet. It’s gonna take some praying.”

She nodded in understanding.

“I think I wanna build a church here,” he decided, keeping his voice down like he  _ just _ remembered he was in a public place. “A real one. Not that the one we had before was actually one, that was just a communal hangout. But I need someplace that I can actually concentrate on my work without having to hide it. And I want to talk to people about this shit. Well, not  _ this _ , obviously, but--”

“Yeah.” Lindsey got the idea. “There are a lot of foreclosed buildings around here. Wanna go urban exploring?”

That got him to smile. “Fuck yeah.”

  
  
  


It actually took Gerard a full month to pick a suitable building, but it was a 10-minute walk from the communal apartment, and it was beautiful in Gerard’s eyes. A two-story office building with 1950s architecture. He didn’t care what it was used for before, but he knew that this was it. The only thing was that, in order to claim it this time, he had to go through the IRS and prove that the place was going to be established as a place of worship, which was something he never done before.

The process took him through the end of summer and well into fall, and Gerard put the whole eye thing on hold for a while as he worked on crowdfunding, a weekly schedule of what he was gonna do for this place, an interior layout of the changes he wanted. It didn’t help that he started to lose sleep, despite the increasing amount of help he was getting while spreading the word, but Lindsey could tell something was eating at his core.

Gerard nearly collapsed when the building was finally his. The keys were in his hand, and the first thing he did was pack a few cans of spray paint and took them with him. Lindsey, Bob, and a few others joined him, taking over a few boxes just to have them over to unpack later. Gerard entered one of the rooms that would be turned into the chapel, and he took a can of red paint to spray across the back wall.  **VINDICTUS** .

“So that’s what you’re naming us?” Lindsey asked, her hands on her hips. One clutched a paper bag. “Sounds metal.”

Gerard chuckled. “I mean, it may be selfish, but I figured since my path started with me plotting revenge, it was fitting.”

“I got you a preseeeeeeeeent!” she whispered, and held the bag forward.

He smirked back at her and opened it. It was a book, he could tell from the top of it, and his eyes widened when he pulled it out to see the cover. The Lesser Key of Solomon. “Oh shit, thank you! Thank you so much, I--”

“Yeah,” Lindsey chuckled as she was pulled into a tight hug. She stayed close when he pulled his arms away and flipped impatiently through the pages, trying to focus enough to actually read.

Gerard sat against a wall that wasn’t covered in wet paint, feeling his heart race so fast it made him dizzy, when he came across two names: Marchosias and Phenex. Two marquises that were promised a throne a millennium ago. Which throne, Gerard had no idea, but Marchosias was shaped like a wolf that vomited fire, and he knew instantly. That’s who Imperator was. Copia must have been Phenex.

“Linds, thank you so much.” Gerard was doing that thing again where it looked like his soul left his body, but in a good way. “This is the answer. You fucking found the answer.”

She was grinning, and leaned forward to nuzzle his face. “Anything for you, Pastor Way.”

  
  
  
  
  


Mikey never had his own  _ office _ before. He never needed one, of course, but if he was actually going to do something here, then he needed one. It was a small one to start, which he didn’t mind, but the scholars in Rome were kind enough to send all his books over to make it look more busy. He needed them, regardless, but he also liked the way they actually made the room look like an office. In his time between getting used to weekly rituals and the abbey and the convent’s upkeep, he walked constantly around the whole property to learn the layout by heart.

He was quick to find his favorite place, surprisingly, the ghouls’ wing. Maybe it was because he missed Ray, but the place just also had an unmistakable warmth to it that no other place here had. The ghouls were also really easy to get along with, though a lot of them were a lot more chaotic than he was used to. They also were amazing secret hoarders, and most of what Mikey learned about the Papas and Siblings were through their gossiping. Sometimes, Mikey would even find himself sleeping over in the wing because he had spent so long hanging out with them until he naturally fell asleep.

  
  
  


When winter came around, Mikey was already a member of the Papas’ bi-monthly meetings about schedules and finances. He mostly just listened and absorbed, it would be a long time until he actually knew enough to have a rightful say, but it was a start. But Mikey was vaguely distracted come mid-December, because they were starting to plan his birthday. It also meant Terzo was coming home from the most recent tour; the last show would be in the chapel.

He didn’t care about the final show, though. He could get caught staring out the window often, so much that he had to be told countless times by Primo and various ghouls to not get lost in his head.

But then the week leading up to Black Mass arrived. Mikey leaned over his balcony in his bedroom, staring out among the courtyard as the snow fell. His fingernails tapped anxiously against the iron railing, trying to keep them in motion to keep them from freezing to the metal. Waiting was never his strong suit. He couldn’t count how many times he had to be talked out of just appearing on the tour bus out of the blue. But this part was the  _ worst, _ the very final moments of Ray  _ not _ being here when they should be.

And then. And then!

In the distance of the woods, something roared. An engine approaching the abbey gates, and Mikey couldn’t be held back this time. He raced back through his room and down the halls, dodging Siblings apologetically along the way, and ignoring some offhanded scolding from Secondo.

When he burst through the front doors, the bus was finally in view, and the gates were just opening. Mikey slid through the fresh snow, making sure to keep himself upward when the bus finally hissed to a stop. He was grinning so hard that his face hurt, open-mouth as he caught his breath. As the doors opened, Mikey kept himself from getting any closer, because he absolutely just would have ran inside the thing and disregarded everyone else.

Thankfully, Ray had enough sense to be the one to step off, and they were immediately met with 115 pounds of squealing demonic entity flung at their chest. Ray miraculously managed to brace their stance in time to keep from falling backward. Unfortunately, their mask fell off in the process.

“Don’t ever leave me that long again!” Mikey pressed his forehead against Ray’s curled horn and clung to him like a baby sloth, all limbs wrapped around them tightly and energy bursting out of him wildly enough to melt the snow beneath their feet. “I’ll rearrange things with Terzo, I don’t care. Just don’t go.”

Ray cleared their throat subtly, and nodded. “I’m not going anywhere for a while, I promise.” They hugged him back, trying not to look at Terzo and the other ghouls who just watched them. “I missed you so much, Michael.”

The snowflakes falling around them turned to raindrops mid-air, hitting Mikey’s cheeks as he trembled.

“I know.” Gently, Ray coaxed Mikey back down on his feet. “When I heard about Gerard, I really wanted to come back and see you. But...”

“Yeah.” He wiped his face dry and focused on calming his shaking. “I get it. I hate it, but I get it. Not your fault.”

“Alright. I have to help get this bus unloaded, but I’ll meet you inside?” Ray told Mikey before turning to Omega, who had picked up their mask for them, and gave a quiet thank-you.

“Can I help or something? I’ve waited for you long enough.” Mikey did his best not to pout.

“Ah-- no. The Antichrist doesn’t do such mundane tasks.” Terzo rested his hand on Mikey’s shoulder blade. “It won’t take long, I promise you. In the meantime, we can go over your birthday plans, hm? Are you excited for that?”

Mikey blew a strand of hair off of his forehead. To his dismay, he was being guided away from the courtyard without having a say in the matter. “I guess so, now that I know the ghouls will be around. Primo told me that the last show is gonna be held in the chapel or something, right?”

“Yes! It’s going to be our biggest show to date! People all over the globe will come to see you, so we must make it special.” Terzo was beaming. “Offerings will be laid at your feet, songs will be sung for the whole week in your honor, and you will be over your head in love and adoration and blessings.”

Mikey just hummed to let Terzo know he was listening. “Wait. But you’re only doing one sow in the chapel, right?”

“ _ Sí _ . But the followers will be in and out constantly. It’s really quite a beautiful thing to behold, so many people coming together in praise. I really think you’ll enjoy it,  _ mio figlio _ .”

Mikey took a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s definitely a lot different than how all my other birthdays went. I guess...besides my very first one, but that doesn’t count since I don’t remember.”

“Would you tell me how you and Gerard did celebrate your birthdays?” Terzo asked with a soft smile. “I never did much get to hear about your life in America, and I am most curious.”

He could start to see why Terzo was Gerard’s favorite out of the Papas. “It was  _ humble, _ to say the least. My room here was probably the size of our whole house over there. But Alpha did a good job in looking out for us. It was just kinda weird, having to be so secret all the time.”

“So you always knew what you were?” Terzo asked.

Mikey nodded. “They made sure I knew, and why I couldn’t let anyone else know. It was hard to understand at first, but I guess I just kinda got used to it.”

“Our Lord always makes sure we have what we need when we ask Him, and tries to direct us to the path of what we want. So I can only hope your life growing up wasn’t unhappy.”

“We made the most of it.” Mikey shrugged. “It, uh, well-- eventually, we started drawing attention, as I’m sure you’re aware, but it was mostly good. Gee had a good following before we left. It’s just kind of a huge adjustment to go from, like, one small town to--” He gestured widely. “ _ \--this _ . It’s massive.”

“I am most positive that the impact that you’ve made in America will grow quickly.”

“I, uh...” Mikey frowned slightly. “I don’t really wanna think about America right now. I’m sure you’re right, but--”

“Oh. Right.” Terzo lowered his gaze. “Your brother, I forgot how fresh that still is. Forgive me.”

Thoughts flooded Mikey’s head, but he couldn’t manage to find the right words to respond with. He sighed. “It’s just...I wish he could've chosen a better way to say goodbye. Which, he didn’t. At all.”

“I can’t speak on his behalf, but I really do understand why he did what he did. He saw Lucifer’s guidance in a different way than us, and if it makes it easier to teach people, even if it strays from our own teachings, then the only thing we can do is wish the best for him.”

Mikey took a deep breath. “He still could have said goodbye to me.”

Terzo paused, and couldn’t do anything else but nod. “Yes, he could have. Do you think it’s something you can eventually forgive?”

“Guess it’s just something I’ll have to pray on.”

Terzo’s smile brightened. “That’s the spirit!”

“Thanks, Terzo. I’ll, uh, catch you around. Probably best to get started on the praying thing ASAP,” Mikey lied, lightly tapped his shoulder and parted ways with him. If he was gonna wait anywhere for Ray, he figured it would be the ghouls’ wing. In the meantime, he bothered Swiss while they fucked around with some half-assed soup concoction that actually smelled sort of amazing.

Omega and Dewdrop were the first to return, and they were surprised to find the Antichrist sitting so casually on the kitchen counter. Clearly, they missed a lot while they were away. When Ray finally showed up, Mikey finally started to feel like he was truly home.

It was a good distraction to get him through to the next day. Black Mass. He had enough common decency to return to his room to sleep this time, so he could be woken up in the morning by a full entourage to go over the day’s schedule and get him ready for everything. He hardly had to lift a finger to do everything, which was both convenient and anxiety-inducing. The first part of the day was a blur, he could hardly keep up.

Soon enough, he found himself holding still for the Sister carefully painting his face. He was transfixed by her concentration, but found it rude to stare for too long, and eventually, his eyes just fell on what little he could see of her progress in the mirror behind her. It was impossible not to see the faces of the Papas, present and past, all with unique faces of their own. Each one had some sort of special detail that none of the others had, and his seemed simple in comparison. Just carved-out cheekbones in black with vertical lines over his lips and a triangular nose. Not that he minded. Theatrical makeup wasn’t really his thing.

It should have been Gerard sitting in this chair, getting his face done like this. Mikey wondered what he was doing in that moment, if he was thinking about him. Mikey  _ wanted _ him to be here, but reaching out to him so soon didn’t seem right yet. He just closed his eyes and let his eyelids get blackened, breathing slowly.

“Alright, I believe that’s the final touch,” the Sister told him, backing up. “Do you like it, your eminence?”

Mikey nodded without even giving it a second glance. “You did a perfect job, thank you,” he answered, smiling at her.

She blushed and gave a low curtsy. “Best of luck out there,” she said brightly before leaving the room. Ray replaced her, nodding to Mikey.

The balcony doors were open, despite the freezing weather. It hadn’t affected him in the slightest, though the constant commotion of gathered followers surrounding the abbey did. It was time for his appearance, and he stood up as Terzo’s voice came through the speakers placed all over the courtyard. Two stage lights that were placed on his balcony floor turned on, and he knew it was now or never. His spine felt like it was vibrating, and for a moment, he could feel something new on his back shift. Something spreading out wide, like a muscle that he hadn’t used in years.

When he reached the railing, his eyes widened. There were  _ so many people _ . Mikey had never seen such a big crowd in his whole life, and having it all right in front of him nearly made him dizzy. And they were all looking to him with smiles and cheers. Breathing in deeply, he gave a small wave, which only seemed to fuel them on. That made him chuckle to himself, and the flutter of his chest turned into a strange buzz he’d never felt before. His breath hitched, and he glanced down at himself.

“You alright?” Ray asked just loud enough for him to hear.

Mikey nodded, keeping his face pointed to the crowd. “Yeah. Just really different, you know?”

“I understand. Listen, Michael...” They hesitated, their tail flicking anxiously. “Everyone’s been avoiding telling you because they were nervous, but Imperator’s going to be at the chapel. During the show.”

Mikey went still, letting the words digest. “Fine,” he stated. Not like there was anything he could do about it, anyway. “Is she there now?”

“Probably. They should be nearly ready setting everything up, so you’re expected to be there soon. The doors will also be opening to the public in about 10-20 minutes.”

“Better to get it overwith then, right?” Mikey turned away and stepped off the balcony, stopping at his mirror to check himself over. He fidgeted with his robes and stole, but his calm came back to him when Ray stood behind him and rested their hands on his shoulders. “Okay. Don’t leave my side.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” they promised.

Mikey nodded at his reflection grimly, and headed down to the chapel. Siblings and ghouls alike were still fussing around, doing mic and instrument checks. He noticed there was a black velvet throne placed behind the altar, making him raise a brow. When the Siblings noticed him approaching, they all stopped what they were doing to bow, which was when his attention was drawn to two people in the front pews.

One was the Cardinal, and the other was Imperator himself. She stood gracefully and walked down the aisle to stand before him, Copia following just a few steps behind. “Your unholy majesty.”

Mikey extended his hand out for her to kiss. When their skin made contact, though, he had to fight himself from twitching. It was like he could feel all the eyes under his skin shift at once, only for a second. There really was more to her than he was told, and it immediately made him curious to know more.

“It’s such an honor to finally stand in your presence. You’re looking well.” She smiled courteously. “I hope things are up to your standards here.”

“They are.” Mikey glanced over her shoulder at the stage again. “You’re not what I expected, Sister. But it’s certainly interesting to finally see your face, after all this time.”

“I live to serve you, Majesty.” She bowed her head.

He raised a brow, his jaw shifting as a few thoughts passed through his mind. Instead of speaking on them, though, he glanced to her left. “Hello, Copia.”

“Happy birthday. You’re looking radiant, unholy majesty,” he said, giving a bow as well.

Mikey bit back a chuckle. “Thanks.”

Copia pulled out a pocket watch. “We still have a few minutes until the doors open, if you’d like to take your place, you’re more than welcome to.” He gestured back to the throne.

“Oh. Sure.” Mikey continued forward when they parted ways for him, and he ran his hand over the velvet on the chair’s arm before sitting down. This was definitely weird, but not in an entirely bad way. He just felt a little undeserving of this position, though he’d never let it show. At least Ray was still closeby and somehow exuding comforting energy, even when they picked up their guitar and started messing around with it.

The Papas arrived soon after, Nihil first, and the rest followed in order of age. They were all in their robes and paint, and they approached Mikey to bow to him. Mikey just smiled and nodded to them in gratitude, then Secondo and Primo stepped up a few stairs to sit on raised benches above the stage. Nihil did the same on the opposite side, and Imperator joined him.

“This is your first show,  _ si? _ Are you excited?” Terzo asked, his confidence beaming.

Mikey nodded. “I’m just grateful that you’re all here. I’m sure that you’re going to be outstanding.”

Terzo gave another, smaller bow. “Thank you, Antichrist. We won’t disappoint.”

Mikey side-eyed Ray with a smile, mostly eager to see them play.

As the doors finally opened, the chapel went from semi-calm echoes to a cacophony of sound quickly. Mikey leaned sideways in the throne, chin resting on his palm and one leg draped over the velvet arm. He really just wanted to curl up under a mountain of blankets, but this was the best way he could stay relaxed in the moment. When everyone was settled in, Terzo raised his hands to silence everyone, and led the ritual with a sermon.

When the music finally began, it was easy to get lost in. Admittedly, he didn’t know the words to any of the songs as well as he should, but he felt the passion in them. He felt everyone else’s dedication and love for the music, which made his whole torso go all warm. Ray’s playing was better than he expected, and Omega matched him perfectly. Their charisma bounced off each other harmoniously, which is what Mikey enjoyed the most out of everything.

By the time Monstrance Clock finally struck up, Mikey had stood up and walked to the front pews, giving the followers their very first close look at him. They all whispered words of adoration to him, and as grateful as he was to all of them, he felt his conscience start to slip into the back of his head. With every person he greeted personally, he leaned in close and whispered in voices that weren’t his own, just one sentence for each person. Sometimes it was a secret, sometimes it was a tiny glimpse of their future, but they thanked him every time. While he was lost in his own mind, there was a voice that he definitely knew, a voice he grasped onto and held tight.  _ “Happy birthday, Mikes. I miss you,”  _ it murmured sadly.

It felt like the night was neverending, just touching hand after hand after hand, whisper after whisper. The Papas also joined him in giving out blessings once the actual show was over.

By the time Mikey came back to himself, it was New Year’s Eve, and he proceeded to sleep for another full day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the latin phrase nihil said is from the hymn deus irae, featured in ep2 of the series on the ghost youtube channel. this is the 4th stanza, though, while in the video nihil quotes the 1st. :)
> 
> the translation here is, “death and nature will marvel, when the creature will rise again, to respond to the judge.”


	6. 2001

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard goes to a very important Ghost show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up satanists this chapter's gonna be a wild one
> 
> cw: a heaping dose of murder (semi offscreen), fantasizing about murder, a decent amount of power play, tiny bit of vomit, and some blood

Gerard’s eyes rolled back against his fluttering lids, slowly cracking them open to the sound of rhythmic buzzing. He groaned, burying his face in a soft white pillow before flopping his arm over to his nightstand to grab his Blackberry. His vision was still too blurry to see the ID of the tiny screen, but it’s not like many people out there knew his number. He just blindly pressed the green button and slapped the phone to his ear. “What?”

“Gerard, I can’t talk long, but you need to know as soon as possible.” Ray’s voice was hushed, but sharp. “Sister Imperator’s in critical condition.”

If it weren’t for the fact that he was laying on his stomach, he would have sat up immediately. But he was awake now, most certainly. As he rolled onto his side, he bumped against another body, but he ignored it as he propped himself up on one elbow. “What happened?”

“She was driving on some sort of errand yesterday, and she swerved off a cliff. Honestly, she’s lucky to be alive, the thing was blown to bits.”

His eyes darted around like the thoughts suddenly bouncing off the inner walls of his skull.

“I don’t think you’re going to find any news of it around, they’re trying to keep the whole thing as quiet as possible. I should go before someone sees me--”

“Ray.” Gerard spoke up, his breaths quick and shallow. “...How’s Mikey?”

“He’s doing alright. I think they’re going to put him on full administrative work for the time being, I’ll try to keep you updated as much as I can about Imperator.”

Gerard nodded, then rolled his eyes at himself. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks so much, take care of him. And Martin. And yourself.” The line quickly ended, and he pulled himself out of the entanglement of bodies splayed out across the bed. He groaned, pressing his palm against his forehead in a lazy attempt to massage the ache swelling there. It took him a moment to remember where he even was, and the sky was still too dark to try and study the city outside the giant glass wall before him. The clock on the bedside table blinked 4:30AM.

Pushing himself to stand, he grabbed a random pair of jeans from off the floor and silently prayed that they fit. They ended up being a little loose on the hips, but he was too tired to care. There was probably a belt lying around that he could grab once he felt like it. As he trudged closer to the cityscape, he took a deep breath and brushed his fingers against the cold pendant against his bare chest.

A new symbol of his own design hung there, representing what he wanted to bring forth for his followers. The pendant itself was black and red, a tall right triangle where the vertical line stretched down until two other horizontal lines intersected it, the top one slightly shorter than the bottom. “Dear unholy Father,” Gerard whispered to himself, gazing down to the streets. “Thank You for this opportunity. My path is clear, and my ambition is strong. I couldn’t have done this without You.”

The sound of shifting made him turn back to look at the bed, another body pushing herself slowly onto her elbows. “...Gee?” she mumbled, rubbing her eye.

“Sorry Linds, did I wake you?” he whispered back, walking back over to lean over the bed and kiss her nose. “I might pop out and grab breakfast or something. Go back to sleep, sugar.”

“You sure you don’t want company?” She squinted at the clock, then sighed. It was difficult getting used to Gerard’s weird-ass schedule.

He smiled back at her, then shrugged. “If you wanna. I always like having you around.” He bent down further to grab his black button-up and toss it on. As Lindsey rolled out of bed and got dressed, he retreated to the bathroom and rinsed his mouth out, and met her at the door to grab their coats and shoes.

Gerard quietly cleared his throat once they were out in the hallway, and he pressed the elevator button. “So, uh, what city’s this again?”

“Chicago. You’re supposed to be giving a sermon tonight, remember?” Lindsey looked him over with concern. “Not sleeping well?”

Gerard giggled, rubbing an eye. “When do I ever?”

She sighed and rubbed his back. “Can I ask about the call?”

The doors opened, and they stepped in, waiting the few seconds to feel the feeling of descending to the ground floor. It made Gerard feel queasy for a moment, but he breathed through it. “Imperator. Apparently, she got in some bad car crash.”

“That’s good, right? I mean, bad that she’s still alive, but...” Lindsey rubbed her forearm.

“Nah, I don’t want her to die on any terms except mine. I deserve to kill her.” He quieted his voice and bounced on his heels anxiously, glancing at the camera in the upper corner. The doors opened again, and they stepped out.

Lindsey seemed to already know where the nearest diner was, and they walked in silence. She could feel Gerard’s tension, and as much as she wanted to pick at his brain, she also knew that he didn’t want her digging too deep into anything about Sister Imperator for her own safety. By the time they reached the diner and settled down in a booth, Gerard just folded his arms down on the table while she read over the menu.

“I really fuckin’ miss the band,” he thought aloud with a thousand-mile stare.

She smiled sympathetically. “So let’s get it back together. I could fill in for Dev.”

“Where’re we gonna get guitarists? I was so spoiled with Ray and Martin.” Gerard huffed. “Not only that, we still got eight other cities to visit, and I need to find time for--” He cut himself off when he saw a waitress approaching, and he sat back up.

Lindsey just ordered for the both of them: two coffees and a stack of pancakes with bacon, sausage, and rye toast. She handed the menus over, then rested her chin in her palm. “You makin’ a side-quest or something?”

Gerard nodded timidly. He looked so uncharacteristically small.

“Is it a dangerous side-quest?”

“Probably.” He started fiddling with the pepper shaker to keep his hands busy. “I’m planning for it only to take a day or two. Quick in and out.”

“Sexy,” she joked.

Gerard shook pepper in her direction, but a smile cracked through his lips.

“But seriously. You keep in touch with me, okay? Just to let me know that things are under control and I don’t have to step up in your position. I’m not as good at talking as you are.”

“I’m not gonna leave you with my mess. Promise.”

She stared at him for a minute, studying his expression. Their eyes stayed locked, and he didn’t twitch or try to shrink away from her, and she finally leaned back against the cheap vinyl. “Okay. You know I trust you, but you also know that I know you. Impulsive little bastard.”

Gerard bit back a smile. “I’ll do the sermon tonight and leave as early as I can tomorrow morning. I’ll text you every four hours so you know I’m not dead, so just you or Bob try to stay around the hotel room until I get back. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Lindsey flicked some pepper from the table’s surface back at him.

  
  
  


Gerard couldn’t sleep after the sermon. Once he was back at the hotel, he was pretty wired, though he did his best to stay out of the others’ ways. He started to convince himself that the quicker he got over to Vadstena, the easier time he’d have of finding Imperator. Lindsey could tell his mind was already off in a different world, and after rolling her eyes and telling him to just go already, he nodded and focused all his energy as he used the sigil to take him to the church.

When he passed through the door, he found himself in Imperator’s empty office. It  _ felt _ empty, like the air itself in the room was trying to absorb his energy, which doubled down harshly on the dizziness he always got from using the sigil. She had a window looking out to the gardens, and even though the sun was up here already, it just looked so dull from in here. He really wished she could have stayed the fuck in here if that’s what her punishment was; just this crushing void.

No, he needed to find clues as to where she was now. No time to get distracted by ennui. He tore open filing cabinets and carded through folders of report after report; she was in charge of the Vadstena police and ghouls, mostly, after all. But none of those files were helpful. He moved next to the pile of unopened envelopes in a small wire basket on her desk--  _ aha! _ A hospital invoice. He stared hard at the address in the upper left-hand corner until his eyes hurt, and muttered it aloud a few times to himself.

Transporting himself there would have just taken more energy, more blood to sacrifice to power it, so he played the equally dangerous game of sneaking through the halls of the church until he reached the main foyer, and followed the familiar path through a side-door that led down to the parking garage. All he had to do was grab a driver, influence them to take him to the hospital, and he was good as gold. It really was easy as that, soon enough, he was sitting in the backseat of a car, watching the church shrinking into the distance.

What Gerard didn’t expect, though, was actually willing himself to go inside the unexpectedly small building. Sister Imperator was inside there. He hadn’t seen her, even been within a thousand miles of her since his almost-murder, save for that time in the police station. That didn’t count, since she wasn’t actually there, he told himself. Here, this was going to be her, in the flesh and blood. Or whatever her rank demon vessel was made of. He stood outside the double doors for what felt like an eternity, but once he could see the receptionist stare at him from outside, he figured he was being too creepy, and walked inside.

The receptionist’s stare was blank, and she gave an equally blank smile as she chewed her gum. “Here for the Sister, hun?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Gerard croaked.  _ Holy fuck, get it together. _

“She’s awake right now, room 3.” And it was both as easy and as terrifying as that. But he walked back to the room anyway, gripped the doorknob with all the strength in his fingers, and invited himself in. He felt like he was walking into a liminal space, like this was just a particularly vivid vision. Maybe the demon court was playing a really elaborate trick on him-- well. Imperator was part of the demon court, after all. By the time he was sitting in the chair beside her bed, he could hardly remember how he even got there.

He couldn’t believe he was fucking  _ stupid _ enough to sit by her bed and just watch her, but he felt an odd sense of power upon seeing her asleep and bandaged up in a room that wasn’t even just for her. There were two beds in the room, despite the second one being empty. But still. If she did the church’s bidding and couldn’t even get her own room, that spoke volumes to him. Vulnerable, he thought. She looked so vulnerable. Maybe she really wasn’t, maybe it was just a rouse-- she was on the demonic court, after all, but maybe she was. He’d tear the brace off her wrinkly neck and squeeze her throat with his bare hands, if he knew that that was all it took. It couldn’t have been that easy, though.

Or maybe she could sense him seething in his chair, because when he blinked, her eyes were open. Not only that, her aged visage was gone, and she looked just as young as she did when she tried to kill him. Her smile was sharp, brow raised in amusement. There was a golden glow around her profile, even though the blinds on the window were drawn. It made Gerard blink again for good measure. “You’re the last person I expected to visit me,” she purred. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Bullshit, you probably did all this solely to lure me in,” he murmured back, keeping his voice calm. His breaths were forcibly slow and collected, and he did his best not to blink again.

“Then why did you come all this way if you suspected a trap?”

“It’s been a while since we last spoke, Marchosias.” He folded his hands on his lap, leaning back. “I just wanted to come and check up on you. See if you were getting along with my brother and all. I heard he’s somewhat of a prodigy in the clergy.”

Her smile sharpened. “You visited me solely to talk about your brother? That’s boring.” Her eyes glanced at him up and down. “No, you wanted to see if I was weak enough to kill. Or, are you just gloating about the fact that it took you two whole decades to figure me out?”

“Well, the Papas don’t know, do they?”

“What makes you so confident in that?”

“They didn’t summon you, that’s for sure.” He shewed on his lip as he thought. “For them to willingly take the risk of choosing you, specifically, to aid in the church? One of the two demons who swore to take ultimate power, when the bloodline has stayed the same for three thousand years? You came up here on your own and wormed your way in through Nihil.”

“Aren’t you a clever boy.” Imperator cooed. She reached out shakily and pat his knee.

“You only used him to steal his eye and plant it in Copia.” Gerard’s hands tensed, fighting the urge to break her fingers.

“I’m only doing what our Lord really intended for the church, you know. With myself and Copia leading, we can dismantle our oppressive enemy for good. I’m sorry if that meant you’re expendable.” She kept her hand there, chilled and irritating.

He took a risk, taking his sight off of her so he could look around the room. It seemed ordinary enough to him, nothing that gave off any harmful energy directed at him.

“I wouldn’t attack you here. They’d only bill me more.” Imperator chuckled and settled her head against her countless pillows. “No, I already have a plan for that. Don’t you get your hubris in a bunch so quickly.”

He pressed his lips together hard. “You couldn’t kill me when I was a helpless child, you sure as shit won’t be able to now.”

Imperator started off giggling, which then rolled into a few moments of roaring laughter before a bad coughing fit came on. A really bad one, one bad enough to get a weird, satisfying rise out of Gerard. But once her lungs settled again, she smirked at him. “You self-righteous little baby. Not everything always has to be about you all the time.”

Gerard raised a brow, and she knew immediately that she got to his head in that moment. But before he could think of anything to respond with, the door opened.

Nihil was all bright grins and wide eyes until he noticed Gerard sitting there, and then it seemed like his face wasn’t sure what to do. “Oh, Pastor Way. Is that really you?”

Gerard rose to his feet slowly. “Papa,” he responded softly. When he approached him, he bowed and kissed his knuckles. “Sorry if I’m interrupting your time. I probably need to get going, but it was good to see you.”

Nihil glanced between the strangely neutral expressions of Gerard and Imperator. “Are you sure  _ I’m _ not interrupting anything?”

“It’s quite alright, Papa. Please. Come sit with me.” Imperator held out a shaky hand.

“Oh, Sister, please try not to move!” Nihil hurried over to take her hand and occupy the empty chair. Gerard found it equal parts funny and sick how much he doted over her. Just as he was about to head for the door, though, he was stopped when Nihil called out to him again. “Why don’t you stay a few more minutes? Since you must have come from so far, it’s a shame for you to leave too soon.”

“Alright.” Gerard shrugged and stood at the foot of the bed.

Nihil gave off a faint air of nervousness, though he smiled through it. “I’m surprised that you even knew about the accident. We did our best to cover up any press about it because we didn’t want to take any attention away from the upcoming tour.”

Gerard folded his hands. “I was praying to Eligos last night, and he sent me...a rather graphic vision. Needless to say, Imperator was a part of it, and I spent some time working out the finer details that led me here.”

“We had a lot to catch up on,” Imperator added. “Gerard was telling me all about his growing empire, and his cute little clergy. Lindsey sounds like a very hard worker, and I told him that it’s always wise to have a woman as a second opinion. They always know what’s best, don’t they, Papa?”

Gerard could feel his chest collapse on itself. His ears were suddenly ringing so bad that he couldn’t hear anything else that the other two said. He was only brought back to reality when his phone rang. “Sorry, Papa, but I’m really afraid I can’t stick around longer. It was really nice seeing you.” He pulled the phone from his pocket and hurried into the hall without another question and blindly pressed the call button.

“You missed your call deadline, you okay?” Lindsey asked.

“I’m fine. I’ll be back soon, are you in a safe place?” Gerard stepped up to the closest door he could find and rolled up his sleeve, pressing his hand over the sigil.

“Yeah, I’m in the hotel room. We’re packing up to ship out, you comin’?”

Gerard exhaled. “Step away from the door,” he warned her, feeling heat sear through his arm. Dizziness drowned him as he opened the door, stumbling into the hotel room where Lindsey and Bob waited from him. His body fell against Bob’s chest, and he was dragged to sit down at the edge of the bed.

“So, did you find her?” she asked, leaning back against the other bed.

“Yeah. She seemed genuinely fucked up, but--” He did his best to keep his head upright, but the room was spinning. Focusing his sight on her shoulders helped to steady him more. “--then Nihil was there, and he’s not dangerous or anything, but I had to go. She’s been keeping tabs on us.”

“Us,” Bob repeated. “Great.”

“I mean...what did you expect? We’re trying to spread a worldwide message. Of course she knows who we are.” Lindsey sighed. “Gee, we’re gonna be fine. Just focus on what you need to, okay?”

“If she sends any trouble our way, we’ll deal with it.” Bob crossed his arms.

Gerard breathed in. “She may have just been trying to scare me. She has no reason to...to--”

“Oh, okay.” Bob pulled Gerard up by the shoulder and helped him to the bathroom, knowing the routine well enough. “You’re good.”

Gerard managed to make it to the sink before his morning coffee came back up with a vengeance, and he was left coughing and sputtering for a few seconds. At least this time was quick and easy, and he just turned on the tap. The sound was calming, and he took a large swig from the stream to rinse his mouth out. “...No reason to actually hurt either of you,” he continued, though his throat still felt acidic. “You both have normal families.”

Both Lindsey and Bob laughed.

The cold surface of the sink felt nice against Gerard’s face. “You know what I mean.”

“Okay, the bus is waiting for us outside. You okay to move?” Bob asked. He helped Gerard stand anyway, though he nodded.

Lindsey handed him a bottle of Pedialyte. “Small sips,” she reminded him.

Gerard nodded in gratitude, and cracked the bottle open as the others picked their bags up and left the room.

  
  


When they made it back on the bus, Gerard sequestered himself in the back to pray. Imperator’s words were sticking to him to the point where it was hard to think about anything else,  _ “Not everything has to be about you.” _ With all the lights off and the windows covered, he sat on the floor and pulled out a cigarette tin from his back pocket. When he opened it, he tipped out a cone of incense and lit it, placing it in front of him. He pricked a small hole in the back of his hand to draw sigils on both his palms before closing his eyes and breathing in deeply.

A song struck up quietly, and stayed so distant that Gerard had to focus on listening to it. It wasn’t a song he’d heard before, but the voice was vaguely familiar. He couldn’t see anything around him except for black smoke, like someone had burned myrrh and sandalwood, even though he knew that wasn’t supposed to produce black smoke. The taste of it coated his tongue, and he tried to walk forward to try and find something. Anything.

After a few minutes of wandering, the song continued, though it seemed to be stuck on a loop of a choir singing one word:  _ forever _ . A beam of light blazed brightly from his distant left, and he ran to it. He discovered it to be a stage light, because Terzo’s body was laying under it. His makeup was smudged to all hell, the only thing that still had neat lines was an ashy cross on his forehead. His pupils were blown out completely, his body still.

Gerard dropped to his knees and pulled the body in his lap, just feeling the weight of this corpse. He needed to know  _ where _ he was,  _ where _ this was happening. There was a faint trickle of blood leaking from Terzo’s neck, so he used that to start drawing sigils on the floor. A growl tore through the song, and two glowing orange eyes blinked to life in the smoke before hands gripped all his body tightly and ripped him out of the vision.

Upon hearing him yelp, Lindsey came to check on him and slowly opened the curtains back up, cracking the windows slightly to get air flow back in the room. “Breathe, you’re okay,” she told him, kneeling down beside him and stroking his hair. “Focus on the motion of the bus. Stay grounded in that.”

He leaned heavily against her body and nodded. “Thanks.”

  
  
  
  


Mikey’s head was resting comfortably in Swiss’s lap as he listened to Ray and Omega compose, sheets of music in semi-neat piles covering almost every inch of the floor. His eyes were closed, but he was irritatingly awake after a rousing session of listening to the demon court in his head try to talk over each other for a whole four hours, leading him to get zero organization of the tour coming up done. But at least he had the sounds of unplugged guitars and Swiss’s lithe fingers combing through his shoulder-length black hair now; it was just as good as ibuprofen.

Well, that  _ was _ the only sound, until he could hear lumbering footsteps approaching. He still didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Am I late for something?” he simply asked when the footsteps stopped in front of the sofa. Thankfully, Swiss hadn’t stopped stroking his hair, which kept him from having an anxiety spike. Mikey didn’t like to be late for things these days.

Secondo sighed. “No.”

_ Shit _ , Mikey’s brain hissed.  _ Here we go. _

“I thought I strongly advised you to stop spending so much time down here. The ghouls are not here for your leisure, they have their own jobs. It’s not for you to distract them, especially when they have to make a lot of preparations for the tour.”

The ghouls all bowed their heads, knowing better than to say anything. Mikey finally cracked an eye open, staring hard back at Secondo. “They’re closer to me in biology than humans are. I’ve had a really rough day today, and they help. I know that’s hard for you to understand, but I’m not bothering them. Am I?”

“No, dark excellency,” Swiss answered.

Mikey raised a challenging brow at Secondo. “I’m allowed to just sit here in silence.”

“You are being a distraction.”

“I can start to see why your own son hates you,” Mikey said without thinking, and pressed his palm over his eyes.

Ray’s eyes wandered slowly to Mikey in shock. Swiss’s hand stilled, then pulled back timidly. The silence that conquered the room was almost deafening.

Secondo’s fingers tensed until his joints ached, then they relaxed. “Speaking of my son...” That got Mikey’s attention quickly. “...it seems he’s been spotted paying our dearest Sister a visit in the hospital.”

Both Mikey and Ray sat up quickly, but Mikey was the only one to speak. “Is he still in the country? When did he see her, who told you?”

How Secondo could look so smug without actually smiling, Mikey would never figure it out. “Nihil saw him in her hospital room, but she assured him that they were only talking.”

“About-- ugh, you know what, where’s Nihil?” Mikey sprang to his feet. “If Gerard’s still anywhere within a hundred miles of Vadstena, I want him brought here!”

“Why even bother?” Secondo followed Mikey back into the corridor. “You know he doesn’t want to be here.”

“That’s too fucking bad. There’s some things I need to discuss with him.” Mikey walked even faster, though the ache in his head fought him more. “Besides, if you’re so under the impression that it’s so impossible to talk to him, then why even bother telling me of his presence?”

“Because I want to remind you that his being anywhere near here is a threat now.”

Mikey turned sharply on his heel, cracking the floor beneath him. “Gerard is  _ not _ a threat to me. If you ever imply that again, there will be consequences.”

Without a second thought, Secondo backhanded Mikey sharply. “You need to calm down.”

Mikey could feel his neck whip to the side, and his body froze in shock as it recovered from the aftermath. The paintings of Papas of the past all seemed to turn their faces in judgment to Secondo. When he could finally move again, he raised a hand to stroke his cheek. “I don’t want to see you again for the rest of the day,” he said with finality, and turned once more to continue onto Nihil’s office.   


The old man was right where Mikey predicted him to be, behind his desk on the phone. Mikey gave him the courtesy of at least finishing the call, but Nihil knew to make the rest of the conversation quick. When he hung up, he neatly folded his hands and gave his heartwarming smile. “Hello, Antichrist!”

“Afternoon, Nihil.” Mikey nodded, and sat down. “I heard you saw my brother visiting Imperator. Did he say anything about where he was going after the visit?”

The smile faded slightly. “Ah. He made it quite clear that he wasn’t planning on ‘sticking around’, as he put it. From what the Sister had told me, their talk was really quite civil.”

“I wanna know everything.” Mikey leaned forward.

Nihil nodded. “I arrived while he was still there. He looked well, which was good, although I was admittedly worried to see him there, as you could imagine. But Imperator assured me there was no hostility in their conversation. He didn’t stay long after I arrived, just long enough to say hello and be on his way.”

“Do you know what he and the Sister talked about?”

“Not everything. And remember, this is all by the Sister’s accounts.” Nihil gave him an apologetic shrug. “They just talked about his progress in the States, and a little bit about the tour coming up. That’s all I know.”

Mikey picked at his fingernails as he thought. “So, he just...left, right?” When Nihil confirmed, he let his head drop. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Oh, Antichrist. I’m sure he probably did ask about you, and they just didn’t tell me.”

Mikey turned his head away, trying not to let his expression sour. “What was Imperator even doing outside? She’s not allowed off the grounds without supervision, Nihil, you’ve been told this countless times.”

Nihil looked at him with guilt. “It’s my fault--”

“I figured.” Mikey squinted at him.

“I’m very sorry.”

He didn’t buy it, but he stayed quiet to allow him to continue the excuse.

“But your ghoul told me in advance that you said it was alright this one time. That Imperator was going out to meet a small group of ghouls at a venue. Something to do with the tour.”

Mikey’s eyes widened.  _ “My _ ghoul?”

“Alpha.”

“He told you...I said it was okay to let Imperator out.” Mikey felt numb. His mind buzzed and hummed and screamed, and his gut flared up. “You know what, okay. Cool. Thanks for letting me know.” Slowly, he stood up and nodded with a smile.

Nihil just nodded back, taking a deep breath.

When Mikey opened the office door, Ray was already standing there with their hands folded. They stared at each other for a good minute, which made Nihil squirm anxiously in the background, and Mikey finally stepped fully into the hallway. Neither of them spoke a word, but Ray just followed without hesitation to Mikey’s bedroom.

“Michael.”

“What the fuck, Ray?”

_ “Michael.” _

“What did you  _ do?!” _

“I cut a line in her power steering--”

“RAY!”

“I have a good reason!”

“Why didn’t you TELL me about this before?!” Mikey marched forward, threatening their personal space.

“Imperator’s targeting Terzo.” Ray’s voice went from a hundred to zero. “Dewdrop let it slip, and all I wanted to do was stop her from being able to attack him on tour. Long enough to figure out a solid way to protect him afterward. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you cancelling the whole thing.”

“And Gerard? Please don’t tell me you told him.” Mikey actually looked hurt, which only got worse when Ray refused to answer. “Ray. C’mon, you could’ve got him in serious trouble.”

“I didn’t tell him where she was staying.”

“Of COURSE he would have figured that out on his own! You know he can do that!” Mikey turned on his heel to pace frantically.

“How do you think he would have reacted if neither of us  _ did _ tell him, though?”

Mikey roared out in a voice deeper than his own, then ran his claws back through his hair and calmed himself. “You should have told me.”

Ray knew apologizing wasn’t going to be good enough, so he just stayed quiet. It was borderline painful watching Mikey try to wear a hole in the floor, but he’s said enough and leaving him alone wasn’t an option.

“The last show’s down in Gothenburg, right?” he asked. “I’m going to it. In the meantime, I’ll make sure Imperator stays in her place for real. I know he’s gonna try to pull some stupid shit and show up.”

Ray simply nodded.

“Don’t.  _ Ever _ . Abuse my authority again. You’ve done so much to protect me in my life, now I need to do the same for you. Just...please, fucking make it easy for me.”

“Yes, Michael.”

Mikey groaned and shuffled forward to press his face against Ray’s shoulder. “You psychopath.”

  
  
  
  


From the beginning of the tour, Gerard had been tracking every bit of news he could gather in between his own work in New York. He wasn’t sleeping well, to the point where the common person could tell. The only time he seemed to get any amount of noticeable rest was when he got too lost in prayer and passed out on the process. But as long as he could receive Signs that Imperator was nowhere near Terzo, he could keep a level head.

When September came around, though, he finally found the one answer he’d been searching for. The black smoke in his vision had cleared enough for him to see the outside of the cathedral where he’d held Terzo’s dead body in his arms. He knew he’d seen it before, though the memory was hazy. Stepping out of the vision, he hurried to his notes and tour dates, checking all the ones that he’d crossed off already.With an hour of scouring the internet for images of the upcoming areas, it doesn’t take long for Gerard to put the pieces together.

Gothenburg. Something was going to happen at Gothenburg-- he supposed it made sense. two hours from Vadstena isn’t all that far when one’s desperate to murder for power, he supposed, so Gerard knew from that point that he had to go.

This wasn’t like Newark when he was a kid. He couldn’t just sneak his way backstage when Imperator’s ghouls were crawling all over the place in disguise, so he just had to act like an audience member and watch the show. Vigilantly. He was caught between getting close and hanging back, his eyes moreso on the aisles between the sections during the first half. But nothing happened.

No, the first half seemed too soon. When the intermission came along, he tried to peek backstage, but Dewdrop had caught sight of him and only smiled wickedly in warning. He was relegated back to the pit, avoiding the gazes of the followers until Terzo caught their attention once again.

Gerard hugged himself loosely as he watched Terzo glide across the stage to Deus in Absentia. He didn’t want to admit the sweeping adoration of the crowd was affecting him as well, but being so close to the masses, his heart was certainly racing. As the ending choir struck up, the air suddenly felt warmer. It was difficult to tell with everyone’s energy bouncing in all directions, which made him even more tense and impatient, not knowing what would happen.

“Dearest followers, are you with us?” Terzo asked, thrusting a fist into the air, and he was met with a response of cheer. Gerard took a deep breath and continued watching on anxiously. “We have a most special guest here with us tonight. Someone we have all waited for. Join me in welcoming--”

_ Oh, shit. _ Mikey was here. And just as the thought occurred to Gerard, he appeared at the top of the center stairs, robes of vantablack draping off his body. Six glowing wings filled up the space behind him, his scleras blood red and his iconic painted face.  _ Oh.  _ **_Shit._ ** Gerard had stopped paying attention to whatever Terzo had said, though it was difficult to hear him anyway as the crowd’s screaming intensified.

Gerard started to shoulder his way gently through the pit until he was in the center and could move no further. Too many people seemed all too eager to reach out and touch the Antichrist, eager to receive his blessing. As Mikey descended the three stairs onto the main stage, he lifted a hand for Terzo to kiss. Two lines of Sisters joined him from the sides, carrying their goblets and plates of Eucharists. Gerard took another deep breath and forced himself not to push closer to the barrier.

When Body and Blood finally started, Mikey, with wings now retracted, reached out and touched the hands and faces of the followers in reach, though his warmth spread throughout the whole pit. Gerard bowed his head, now afraid to be noticed, until another jolt of anxiety shot through him. He wasn’t sure just how he felt it, but when he turned to his left, he saw Imperator’s face. She was giving her wicked grin, and he read two words on her lips.

_ “Get him.” _

Gerard was dead center of the pit; he couldn’t just run now. He couldn’t fight his way to her, either. “Mikey!” he cried out without thinking. He felt sick, freezing, dizzy, and all of his past nightmares came crashing down on him. Hands grabbed all over his body as he desperately reached forward, but there were too many people in the way now. “MIKEY!” He was screaming, but nobody turned to look at him as he felt the hands drag him away. His mouth was covered with a rough palm, and he jerked violently to try and break free. Tears filled his eyes, and his last attempt to get anyone’s attention at all was at Ray’s, but even he was too immersed in the song.

Four nails raked over his scalp like they tried to make him bleed. “All those years, all that effort. Wasted.” Imperator tutted against Gerard’s ear. Her breath burned his skin, and still he fought against her as she laughed. “The Emeritus line ends tonight.”

Terzo began Monstrance Clock as Gerard was dragged away from the pit. The Sisters had parted ways from the crowd, and he slowly made his way back to the fog-covered stage as the first verse went on. His skin started to shift back to its usual color, his robes flowing behind him regally. When he got a better look at the crowd, he could feel the growing power of everyone singing in unison, singing for  _ him _ . But something was amiss, something very faint was off. He glanced to Ray, who only nodded back at him with encouragement, and he stepped back up on the center stairs with the three guitarists in front of him.

It was a feeling Mikey couldn’t put into words. To feel such adoration was intensely overwhelming, but he’d never felt stronger. As he breathed in, he closed his eyes and raised his arms, until everyone’s singing was cut off by gasps and screams. Mikey suddenly felt the arms of Ray and Omega protecting him as Terzo was grabbed by two men dressed in black. Mikey could just catch the glint of crucifix necklaces in the light, and he fell limp against the ghouls. The fog under his feet had changed from white to black.

“It’s okay, we got you,” Ray whispered, pulling him away from the commotion. Mikey could hear Nihil’s voice take over the speakers as he was taken to safety backstage, and he stopped both of them.

_ "La festa è finita, il medioevo comincia ora." _

“Where did they take Terzo?” Mikey was able to stand by himself, and he was quick to shed his robes. All he was wearing were black dress pants and a tank top underneath. “We need to find him.” Those were the only words he managed to get out before a sharp pain whipped against the back of his neck. His eyes rolled up and from what little of his sight he had left, the colors bled into sepia. His brain washed over with static with echoes of someone screaming, someone teetering on the edge of sanity, and everything went sideways for a moment.

He could still move, he was still somewhat in control of his limbs, but he was so heavy. Rolling onto his side, he could just make out the blurring motions of Omega wrestling Dewdrop--  _ was that blood on Dew’s tail? _ \--to the floor before Ray blocked the image.

“Michael!” Ray was holding his face.

Mikey blinked. “Terzo.”

“I know, I know. Gravel and Tempest are looking,” Ray promised him. One hand slid gently behind his head, causing Mikey to tense and cry out, but Ray hushed him. “Give it a moment.”

Mikey lifted his hand to his chest and made a lazy cross gesture. “I think the Vatican...” His sight started coming back in full color after a few rapid blinks, and he breathed in as deeply as he could.

“There you go, feeling better?” Ray asked.

The numbness from his neck was subsiding, shrinking down until it was just a tiny, bearable pinprick. The static was disappearing, but he could still hear the screaming. “Gee?”

Ray blinked. “What? Gerard...I haven’t seen him.”

“He’s here. I know he’s here.” Mikey sat up with all the strength he could muster. When he looked over his shoulder, Ray looked back at him with worry. Omega practically had Dewdrop pinned down and hogtied, and he frowned.

“Don’t worry about ‘em,” Omega said, as if reading Mikey’s thoughts. “It’s under control.”

Mikey nodded. Gerard was more important, and now that he could feel his fingers and toes again, he got back on his feet. He heard heavy, quick footfalls coming closer, and as Ray stood up beside him, they both caught sight of one of the people that dragged Terzo off stage. Mikey only needed to nod to Ray, and they charged forward in attack.

As much as Mikey wanted to stay to watch them rip him apart, he was quick to follow the sound of distant wailing.

  
  
  


It took all of Imperator’s ghouls to physically lift Gerard’s body off the ground to get him even in the direction they wanted. He was feral, thrashing about with the threat of tearing his own limbs off if it meant escape. Imperator couldn’t help but be a little impressed, although she’d never admit it. Getting him to move was getting tiresome, though, and eventually, she was nearing her limit.

“Stop,” she commanded, and though the ghouls stopped in their tracks, Gerard still fought on, now parallel to the floor. With one swift hand, she grabbed him roughly by the hair. “Look at me.”

“NO!” Gerard could only see Imperator upside-down from where he was. He snapped his neck back and managed to bite the side of her hand. It didn’t work out in his favor, though, since she shoved the hand back, forcing his jaw to stretch open until it ached deep in the base of his skull. She probably could have split his head in half with a little more pressure, it felt like. Tears and sweat and snot covered his face, and he found himself suddenly bereft of breath, his nose leaking and his throat flooding with saliva.

“Listen to me. The Papas are dead. There’s nothing you can do now.” She smiled softly as Gerard shook his head, and raised up a syringe with her free hand. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Gerard. I hope we meet again in Hell.” Before she could bring the needle down, though, the glass shattered between her fingers.

“Put him down.” Mikey loomed forward, the walls cracking in his wake. “Leave this place at once, and I will consider letting you keep your life.”

When Imperator removed her hand from Gerard’s mouth, she gave a cordial bow. “Antichrist.” Behind her, Gerard was hacking up fluid and gasping for his life.

Mikey held an arm out toward her, various eyes of different sizes covering his exposed skin. “Obey my word, Marchosias. Kneel like the dog you are.” The angle of his arm lowered, but even with such small motion, he forced her on her hands and knees.

Her head bowed, and she clawed at the floor. “It will not be so easy to tame me.”

“Mikey! Mikey, Terzo!” Gerard panted, finally losing his energy. “Is he dead?”

Mikey’s free hand pushed the ghouls away from Gerard, dropping him harshly on the floor. He rolled on his side as he wheezed, dizzy and delirious with his skin flushed a faint shade of purple. When Mikey hurried to his side, he helped him sit up. “You okay?”

“Terzo,” Gerard repeated. “She said they’re dead. All of them.”

Mikey’s face paled, and he turned to see Imperator and her ghouls had vanished from sight. He tugged Gerard back on his feet. Primo and Secondo should have been waiting in the green room, and when they opened the door, both of them were slumped, lifeless, over the center table. Gerard ran in to double check, but their bodies were cold and stiff.

Mikey stumbled back, jumping when he was met with the other of the two masked men that dragged Terzo off stage. He was bear hugged from behind, and backed him up roughly into the wall. When he was released, he turned and grabbed the agent by the throat, only to have his palm sizzle against his skin. An uncomfortably familiar rumble tore through the back of his mind, spreading through his spine and ribs.

The more Mikey looked into his eyes, the more confusion rose in him. “No. No, don’t tell me it’s you.” He tore the black mask off from his lower face, and his thought process shut off completely. The storm was real now. The light above them exploded with streaks of lightning burning the ceiling.

“Mikey--” Frank lifted his hands. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“FRANK?!” Gerard barked. “What the fuck did you do!”

“Mikey, c’mon. I know this is bad--”

“Bad?  _ Bad? _ You shouldn’t be anywhere near this place, Frank.” Mikey gripped his shaking fists in Frank’s shirt under the bulletproof vest, burying his knuckles in his collarbone. Another eye opened on the side of his neck. “What the fuck are you?”

“Probably a dead man, aren’t I?” Frank shut his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mikey.”

“You grandson of a bitch-- Mikey, kill him!” Gerard stormed forward. “He murdered Terzo, didn’t he? Didn’t you?”

“Tell me what you are.” Mikey slammed him into the wall again, thunder roaring with the collision. Frank jumped as if he was electrically shocked. “Tell me who sent you.”

Frank swallowed hard. “Alright, I’m-- I’m a Vatican Special Ops.” The wall started crumbling around him, debris falling against his black attire. The air grew thick with dust and humidity, and he started to forget how to breathe. “We got intel that the Papas were going to be here in one place, and...”

“You came here to finish off the other two, huh?” Gerard hovered over Mikey’s shoulder. “Well, guess what. You were in leagues with a fucking demon. Mikey, just fucking waste him.”

Frank lowered his head. He looked half-passed out already.

“Beg for your life.”

“What?” Frank and Gerard spat at the same time.

Mikey’s eyes glossed over. The lights above were flickering sporadically, sparks trickling down. “Go on, then. Beg the prince of Hell for your life, if you want it so bad.” His nails tore holes in Frank’s shirt.

“Michael, kill him right the fuck now or I will.” Gerard whipped out a pocket knife, already sliding around his brother, but Mikey held out an arm to stop him. “Do it!”

“Find Terzo and Ray,” Mikey demanded without taking his eyes off Frank. “I don’t need you around to handle Frank.”

“Fuck this, I can’t believe you.” Gerard backed up so he could run off. “Hurry up with your damn quarrel.”

The silence that remained could have driven Frank to madness, frozen in Mikey’s stare. “I’m waiting,” Mikey hissed.

Finally, Frank nodded timidly. “Please,” he started off. “Please, Mi-- A-Antichrist, unholy prince. I am unworthy of your mercy.” Shakily, he clasped his hands together. “I have done a terrible slight against you in the name of your enemy, and I am the least deserving person to ask for your forgiveness, but please. Spare my soul. I--” His mouth ran dry. “I beg you to let me live.”

Something deep in the pit of his stomach thrummed, the way Frank’s plead almost sounded like a prayer. Mikey huffed, and loosened his grip slowly. One hand pulled back first, and he locked his knuckles in a claw formation. His nails came tearing down into Frank’s arm, three deep gashes slaughtering the image of the Lady of Sorrows on his arm to the bone.

Frank fell to his knees and cried out, clutching at the blood spilling out of the fresh wound while bits and pieces of the wall continued to batter bis hack.

“You get one, hear me? One,” Mikey warned him before storming off. By the time he found Terzo, there was a crowd still knelt all around him. Gerard and all the ghouls except for Dewdrop looked down upon the corpse in silence.

Ray stood up and rushed to envelop Mikey in a hug. They’d taken their mask off. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, caressing his hair. “We didn’t find him in time--”

“Frank killed him.” Mikey croaked, muffled into Ray’s chest. “Out of the billions of people in the world...it was Frank Iero.”

Ray hugged him tighter.

“I’m so dizzy, Ray.” Mikey’s eyes fluttered shut as cloudy grey tears dripped from the corners of them. Black veins were prominent over his whole skin to the point he looked more ghoul than human. “Everything is so much right now.”

“We’re going to get everyone out of here. The...the structure of this place is unsteady, but we’ll be okay.” With one careful swoop, they lifted Mikey into their arms and rested his head on their shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Gerard, Omega, and the other ghouls lifted Terzo’s body from the floor. When the Siblings finally caught up to them, the tragic news was spread around.

Mikey and Gerard were taken outside to the Papas’ bus, and Mikey was laid down in the back room. He refused to let Ray leave his side. Gerard rested in one of the other bunks, cold compresses placed over his strained joints. The bodies were taken away in ambulances to be rushed back to Vadstena as quickly as possible. Everyone was at a loss, and the rest of the night passed in an unbearable silence.

  
  
  


Sister Madonna waited at the gates of the abbey for the bus to return, wringing her hands anxiously. When Gerard and Mikey came into view, she couldn’t help but run to them and gather them up in her arms. “Forgive me,” she thought aloud, trembling around them. “When I heard what happened, I was so scared for the both of you.”

Gerard leaned against her. “It’s okay,” he assured her weakly, stroking her upper back. “We’re alive. It’s gonna take more than some trap to take us down.”

She pulled back and rested a hand against his cheek. “ _ Älskling, _ please promise me you won’t run headfirst into danger. Either of you.” She couldn’t hold back tears any longer. “The world couldn’t bear losing you, too. Not after the Papas.”

Mikey nodded, though his expression was blank. “We’ll be safe, for the time being. We need to recover.” He glared at Gerard. “Stay for a while. We need to talk.”

“Please do?” Sister Madonna smiled with hope. “There’s plenty of room for you to sleep.”

Gerard hesitated. “I wasn’t planning on coming up this way, I...”

“Well, things have changed. You’re staying,” Mikey told him in an authoritative tone. “I’ll let you sleep first to get your thoughts together, but if you end up running away from me again, there will be consequences. Get inside.”

Sister Madonna linked arms with Gerard while Mikey waited for Ray and Omega. Gerard was too exhausted to make it to any of the extravagant rooms, so he convinced Sister Madonna that it was alright that he took up a bed in the Siblings’ convent. Seconds after his head hit the pillow, he was unconscious.

  
  
  


The next time his eyes opened, the room was still dark. He found out, after sitting up, that the curtains were drawn shut, only a few floor lamps around the open room giving it dim light. Mikey was sitting across the bed from him, his hands folded neatly in his lap. They were the only ones in the room. “Were you watching me this whole time?” he murmured before yawning.

“Not the whole time. Only after you started screaming in your sleep.” Mikey sighed heavily.

“Fuck-- I don’t even remember.” Gerard hunched forward as his feet touched the floor.

“The screaming or the nightmares?”

“Both, I guess.”

Mikey bit his tongue. “Right. Makes sense.”

Gerard watched the details of his expression tick. “You demanded a talk, right? Are you gonna hit me with it now?”

“Gerard, what are you even doing in Sweden?” It seemed the question was inevitable, but it still fell heavy on Mikey’s tongue. “Just...what the hell? Why did you come back here after five years? Why did you leave so abruptly in the first place?!”

Surprisingly, Gerard took the bombardment in stride. “I left to pursue my path, to preach the way I see right. And I knew you weren’t going to be okay with that.”

“Says who?” Mikey’s tone sharpened immediately. “Gee, for fuck’s sake. I  _ knew _ this wasn’t the life for you, it was too obvious.”

“But I didn’t want you following me. This Church needs you a shitload more than it ever needed me. Thousands of people were waiting for you.”

Mikey rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t change how shitty what you did was. I lost Frank, I lost Ray, and then you up and left out of left fucking field. It might be easy peasy for you to make new friends everywhere you turn, but it’s not the same for me. I was devastated!”

Gerard inhaled deeply, and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“You better be.” Mikey got frustrated after finding himself unable to add anything onto that, so he just moved on. “So what brought you back?”

“I prayed on it. I was getting Signs that Terzo was going to be in danger, but I was obviously not enough to help.” Gerard straightened his back. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Mikey cut him off.

“Does that also explain why you visited Imperator after her crash?”

Gerard’s lips hung open for a moment. “The two are definitely connected. I--” He took another moment to think. “I knew her crash was intentional. She dropped a hint that she was going to do something terrible, and I couldn’t just fucking stand by and let her slaughter her way to power like that. Even if she is...well, you know.”

Mikey raised a brow.

“Marchosias. But it turns out that Copia is another marquis, Phenex. Apparently, Imperator crawled up from Hell in pursuit of completely dominating the Church, and planned on summoning Phenex because they made a pact a thousand years ago or some shit to conquer humanity. The text was kinda vague, but clearly I’m right.”

“Phenex, huh?” Mikey slouched. “So, Copia...Imperator’s trying to make him pope.”

“He just might, if I’m being honest.” Gerard glanced at the curtains. “He’s the only one qualified to take up the position, as far as I know.”

“So, what? You’re in hysterics about all three Papas being killed off, but you don’t mind Phenex taking over? What’s so good about Copia anyway that your own bloodline suddenly isn’t good enough to lead?”

“That’s not what I said,” Gerard bit back.

“Did you actually even care about their deaths? They didn’t exactly say the kindest things about you, whenever I asked.  _ Especially _ Secondo.”

“I do care that they’re gone. It hurts a lot more than I expected.”

“Does it really hurt because they’re gone? Or does it hurt because Imperator won again?”

Gerard’s nostrils flared. “Just because I was a disappointment to them doesn’t mean I didn’t have any good memories. Maybe...maybe Primo and Terzo more, but they were still there.” He couldn’t deny that Mikey was right, though he refused to say it aloud. “You didn’t kill Frank, did you?”

“I’m asking the questions here.”

“I gave you enough answers.” Gerard stared hard back at him. “Why did you let him live?”

“Same reason as you. I was given Signs that we’ll need him in the future.”

“You know, one day, one of his little ‘assignments’ will probably target you.” Gerard huffed. “You need to get over him. He’s the worst fucking person in the world for you.”

Mikey stammered at first. “Gerard, shut up! It’s not like I’m actively trying to make anything happen between us, and I have been keeping an eye on him when I can. You think I’m just blindly letting him run around and collect information on me? He’s not-- I won’t. I’m not. I know what I’m doing, so just leave it.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Juliet.” He sighed and started feeling around the bed for his phone. “Fuck...you wouldn’t happen to have a spare charger, would you?”

“Already eager to leave so soon?” Mikey crossed his arms.

“Jesus-- I just wanna tell someone I’m okay. Can I please just fucking do that, your majesty?” Gerard pushed his hair back, but when he saw Mikey’s expression crumble, he lowered his head and pushed himself to sit beside him, arm to arm. “I’ll stay for a little bit. I’m assuming there’ll be a funeral, so I feel like I should be there.”

Mikey just nodded and sat himself in Gerard’s lap, hugging him until it hurt his ribs. “You almost died. I almost lost you forever.”

Gerard’s gaze glazed over, and he combed his fingers slowly through Mikey’s hair. “You saved me, though. I’m only alive right now because of you.”

Mikey’s eyes were shut as tight as they could be, but he could still feel the demons in his mind hissing in intrigue. “You’re still...planning on killing her, right?” He didn’t wait for Gerard to answer. “I’ll help you. Whatever it takes. Just as long as you don’t face her on your own.”

Gerard held his breath. “Mikes...”

“I’m not gonna let you die while I have anything to say about it.”

He smiled sadly, and took a deep breath. “Can I bring two people to the funeral?”

Mikey nodded, sliding back onto his feet. “I got a charger in my office, c’mon.”

“Ooh, big boss Antichrist with his own office,” Gerard teased as he followed Mikey out of the convent.

“Yeah. I’m kind of a big fuckin’ deal around here now.” Mikey nudged his side.

Gerard grinned and ruffled his hair. “Good for you.”

  
  
  
  
  


Black fog gently rolled across the floor of the chapel stage. The Papas were placed in glass coffins, and displayed in the abbey’s foyer for the public to pay respects. The full clergy, Gerard, Lindsey, Bob, and select news anchors sat in the chapel as Copia led a sermon for the funeral. Gerard hardly moved a muscle for the whole thing, his gaze studious as he watched and listened to Copia. It was the first time he’d heard him actually speak publicly, and all he could think about was how well he fit into the role.

“We, our church, have never suffered such a devastation before in our history. Three Papas perished in one night, a loss that we’re still not sure how to recover from. They all had minds ahead of their time, together they brought forth the Antichrist to us--” Copia gestured behind himself to Mikey on his throne. “--and reminded us that, through Lucifer, we all have value and significance beyond measure. We must keep these tenents close to our hearts now more than ever in their honor. We must uplift our brothers and sisters in these difficult times, because nobody else will. Even though we may not be able to see them anymore,” He paused to look up at the empty spots where they used to sit, where only Nihil remained. “their spirits will guide us through our prayers. I ask now for a moment of silence as we prepare a new hymn for their passing.”

Mikey looked out among the pews. Unlike most of the shows that took place in the chapel, he sat straight and poised this time, reflecting how it seemed like everyone else was sitting. Despite the room being as well-lit as ever, it still had an unmistakable darkness to it, all except for one tiny spot in Mikey’s vision. It was like a sunspot, or one of those floaty specks one sees when suffering from vertigo. It was constant, right in the very back pew. It caught his attention, and once he felt the low murmur deep in the pit of his chest, he put the pieces together.

Gerard saw Mikey’s face change, even from his sizable distance. It wasn’t a dramatic change that anyone else could pick up on, but Gerard could notice the twitch in the corner of his eye, the way he stretched his neck slightly upward, the thing he did with his mouth when he tried to make himself look relaxed only to end up frowning. What was he looking at? “Look at me, Mikey,” he mouthed, his own brow knotting, and Mikey wouldn’t look at him. It didn’t take too long for Gerard to figure out what was going on either, though.

Frank was here.

He was much too far away for either of them to actually do anything, and Gerard knew better than to make a scene in the middle of the funeral, but his hackles were raised to the point where Lindsey rested a hand over his.

Mikey pushed his back into his chair, his breaths quick and anxious. Frank was a fucking idiot for even getting close to this place. He swallowed hard and clawed quietly at the chair’s arms when Copia finally broke the silence.

_ “Can you hear me say your name forever--” _

“What’s going on?” Lindsey whispered. Bob was looking at Gerard now, too.

“The murderer’s somewhere in this chapel.” Gerard barely breathed the words. If anyone else had heard him, it would be bad news, and he was too torn between his rage toward Frank and his fear for Mikey to let the situation explode. Something else, though, was threatening to pull at his attention. Copia’s voice overpowered his thoughts and it almost felt like his voice was physically fighting his eyes to focus on him instead of Mikey.

_ “Can you see me longing for you, forever?” _

Mikey kept his head high, and suddenly it was like a switch had turned on in his head. All the candles in the chapel flickered and dimmed just slightly. Mikey sorted through all the voices in the pit of his mind and plucked out just one, thinking a name repeatedly:  _ Marbas, Marbas, Marbas _ .

Frank was already leaning forward with his elbows pressed to his knees, his hands silently folded between his open lap. But once he started feeling pins and needles under his nails, he immediately got a bad feeling in his gut. The uneasy feeling quickly spread all the way through his fingers, and when he tried to breathe in to stay calm, his ribs jerked in a sharp cramp. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was just too much exposure.

_ “Would you let me touch your soul forever?” _

Against his better judgment, Mikey let his eyes fall closed. But now he could see Frank better than ever, as if he was standing over his frail body. He imagined himself kneeling down to be face level with him, gently tipping his chin up.

Frank actually lifted his head, though he was too far away to see anything besides the back of other peoples’ heads. But there was pressure against his skin, his jaw.

“You don’t belong here,” Mikey warned him, though the words weren’t actually spoken aloud. Frank could hear it clear enough, though, like the whispers the priests have warned him about. “Leave.”

Gerard turned his head back to try and search behind him, but Frank was nowhere in sight.

Frank’s stomach went cold. He didn’t even know if he had the strength to walk out of the chapel, but it was clear he had no other choice. Slowly, he pushed himself to stand as much as he could, though he stayed hunched as the icy nausea washed over his whole chest, and he stumbled out the closest door as quietly as he could.

Mikey folded his hands tightly in his lap. Images flashed through his mind, images of himself having a tattoo on his arm. The Lady of Sorrows, but with Frank’s face. When he opened his eyes again, he ran his fingers over his sparse arm hair; it felt the same as it always had. No tattoo to speak of. When he looked at Gerard again, his face calmed, trying to convey to him that there wasn’t a problem to worry about.

  
  
  


Afterward, when Mikey was able to step out of his robes and wash his face and get more comfortable in jeans and an Immortal t-shirt, he allowed Gerard, Lindsey, and Bob to meet him in his office. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you both.”

“You’ve met me before,” Bob responded.

“Yeah, but I’ve never actually like,  _ met _ you met you. You were mostly around for Gee’s shows and showed up every so often at the rec center.” Mikey waved a nonchalant hand. “I digress.”

“Why was Frank there?” Gerard cut in.

Mikey bit his tongue. “I didn’t expect him to show up. I was actually really pissed, so I threw him out--”

_ “Why _ , Mikey?”

He rubbed his arm slowly. “Catholic guilt, probably. It was difficult to read, but he’s probably just one of those assholes who pays respects to people he kills.”

“Waaaaaait.” Lindsey squinted. “Frank, why do I know that name? You’re not talking about that squirt that lived next to you all those years, are you?” The brothers’ silence spoke volumes, and she let out a guttural laugh. “No way. Nuh uh,  _ that  _ little goody--”

“Linds.” Gerard eyed her with warning. “Too soon.”

She pressed her lips together hard, her smile cracking through. She bowed her head. “Sorry.”

Mikey cleared his throat. “Uh, congratulations on winning over New York, I guess.”

“Oh, uh, we’re not-- it’s not like this is a competition or anything. Y’know.” Lindsey shrugged. “But thank you. It means a lot coming from the actual Antichrist.”

Mikey nodded with an awkward smile.

“So, listen. I know you wanted me to stay for a bit, and I promised you I’d be here for the funeral. But I gotta take these guys home, take care of a few things...and then I’ll come back. We got a lot of planning to do, so I promise the time will fly by.” Gerard told him.

“In the meantime, I’ll keep a lookout for Imperator. I know she’s not gonna stay away for long.” Mikey sighed. “Alright. Get on outta here. Stay in touch, though.”

Gerard smiled back at him. “I will. Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone okay? grab some pedialyte.
> 
> the next few chapters may be a bit more spread out because i have a basic idea of how to end it, but details make my brain swim so i'm gonna try and really work em out to the best of my ability. i'm estimating i'll be able to squeeze 3 more chapters outta this, but let's see what my brain decides in the near future haha
> 
> as always, thanks so much for reading up to this point!! it's a genuine shock to me that people are actually interested in this lmao, i love you all ❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎


	7. 2002 (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unlikely group comes together to form a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this chapter ended up more fillery, but it's also sorta Gay so i hope that balances each other out lol  
> also thank you so much for 100 hits?????? it may not seem like a lot but it is to me, thank you all so much for reading so far 🥰😭
> 
> uhhhh tw for vomiting and gerard being a bully

“Are you serious? Like, you really want this?” Mikey raised a brow as he observed Copia.

The cardinal’s fingers were tented in front of him. “You’re clearly aware of their talent. You’ve heard them play both bass and guitar, and Alpha...well, they’ve made it very clear that they don’t want to play for me.”

“Yeah, and they almost severed my brain stem.” Mikey spoke with just a hint of annoyance.

Copia gestured vaguely. “But...you’re okay now!”

Mikey sighed. “Yeah, I guess...”

“Antichrist.” Copia took a deep breath and leaned forward in his chair, sitting in front of Mikey’s office desk while the other stared blankly out the window. “Dewdrop isn’t going to be listening to Imperator anymore. You are in charge of the church, so you’re in charge of the ghouls. Besides! It’s not like Dew  _ wanted _ to actually hurt you to begin with. Just...”

“They’re good at it, I know.” Mikey took a deep breath, turning so he could lean his back against the window. “It’s just weird. Water ghouls aren’t usually in that position, so we’ll probably need to set aside another time to adjust them to the proper element. You’re right. They are really good.”

“So do we have an official lineup now?” Copia asked.

Mikey nodded. “I’ll write up something to have it posted on the ghouls’ billboard. Thanks for your suggestions, Copes. I know you really wanted to showcase Aether, so I’m sure it’ll go over well.” His next thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in.”

Sister Madonna stepped in, followed by Gerard close behind her. “Your brother’s here, Michael.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Mikey smiled before she left the room. “Make yourself comfortable, Gee. Just wrapping up with the cardinal here.”

“Oh! Uh, I’m actually glad I caught you both in the same room.” Gerard nodded to Copia. “Can I ask you something?”

Copia straightened his posture. “...It’s nice to see you, too,” he muttered.

Gerard’s gaze fell. “Sorry. Hi, uh-- shit, that was rude. You look good, Copia.”

Mikey sighed to himself and sat down, pulling out a blank sheet of paper to write on.

“I understand.” Copia crossed his legs neatly. “So what was the question?”

“You still in touch with Mary Goore?”

Copia blinked, and his face flushed a faint shade of pink. “Oh. Yes, I suppose. Do you need to get in contact with him?”

“Please? If it’s cool with you.”

He chuckled. “I’m not his keeper, just a client.” When he stood up, he reached under his sleeve and pulled out a black business card. “The easiest way is just to summon him, but winter is usually his busiest time of the year.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, thanks.” Gerard tucked the card away in his pocket and watched as Copia headed toward the door. His eyes fell to Copia’s shoulders, and he sneakily reached out to graze his fingertips over the loose bat-winged cut of his cape. It was nice.

“Before you go!” Mikey stopped him, rushing over to hand him the piece of paper. “Pin that up for the ghouls, please?  _ Grazie _ .”

Once they were alone, Gerard raised a brow. “Can I ask?”

“Ghoul stuff, that’s all,” Mikey assured him. “Go on, sit.”

Gerard sighed and nodded, flopping down in a chair. “New lineup?”

Mikey nodded hesitantly, and he could already feel Gerard’s smile growing in hope. “Gee, I don’t know. I mean, Martin, sure, but--”

“Mikey. Please. He wouldn’t even be gone for long, and it’s not like I’m asking for them right now. But please, can I borrow Ray when the time comes around?”

“You didn’t come over here to talk about Ray.” Mikey huffed.

“Think of it as a bonus.”

Mikey’s jaw shifted to keep him from frowning too hard. “I’m good, thanks.”

Gerard folded his hands tightly. “Just...promise me you’ll consider it? After all of the Imperator shit is done with. C’mon, it would mean so much to me. And to Ray, too, I’m sure of it.”

Mikey squinted at him. “I’ll consider it. But you don’t mention a thing to either of them until I say so. Got it?”

Gerard nodded. “Okay. Pestering over.”

“You really are kind of rude at greeting people.” Mikey smirked.

“You’re an exception.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Uh, yeah. Someone has to keep your ego in check, devil-child.”

Mikey scoffed. “And the only person that can do that is someone with an even bigger ego, huh?”

Gerard stretched his leg out to kick his ankle.

“Jerkoff.” Mikey sat on the top of his desk. “Mary Goore, huh? Why is he essential to the plan?”

“Turns out he’s really good at making traps. The kind of traps we need to catch us a marquis.” Gerard pulled his legs up to fold them close to his chest. “There’s just, uh, well...something else that could probably benefit us greatly with all of this. Someone.” His expression shrank, save for the growing frown.

“You’ve caught my interest.” Mikey raised a brow.

Gerard groaned. “Well, what’s...one of the best defenses against demonic forces?”

“Holy wards, I guess.” Mikey’s eyes widened when the realization hit him a moment later. “You want Frank? Are you serious? He’s, like, number one on your shit list.”

“I don’t  _ want _ him. But he could be useful to the cause. Especially since you’re still gay for him or whatever.”

“I’m not gay for him!”

“Whatever!” Gerard pulled his legs in tighter. “I want this to be efficient, though. I don’t want to avoid any chances of this to work, so...Frank’s our best bet.”

Mikey chewed on his lip. “...I dunno, Gee. It’s only been 5 months since everything happened. And it’s not like we can just casually meet up and shoot the shit, you know. He’s busy. I’m busy. Also, we’re supposed to be enemies.”

“He was supposed to be enemies with Imperator, too, and look what happened.”

“Fuck, okay, I get it.” Mikey tilted his head back and groaned. “Everything she’s ever done is a slight against you.”

Gerard frowned. “My point is, it’s not impossible to convince him to help us out. I’m the one that hates him anyway, so that should be speaking volumes as it is.”

“So...you’re also willing to be the one to go recruit him?” Mikey asked.

“Wait, what? Why would I--”

“He’s at the Vatican, dumbass.”

Gerard’s mouth hung open, then he sank into the chair. “...Shit. No, come on!”

Mikey gave him a sorry-not-sorry look. “Do you really need him that badly?”

Gerard was starting to reconsider, then shook his head. “Yeah, probably. Fuck. I don’t wanna go to the fucking Vatican.”

“It should only take a day, right? You’ll survive it a lot better than I ever could.” Mikey stood up and pat Greard firmly on the shoulder. He could feel a grin spread across his face. “And in the meantime, I get to track down Mary Goore.”

“Just be careful, okay? I mean it.” Gerard pointed at him. “Mary’s crazy. You could get hurt.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.” Mikey straightened his posture. “I mean, I have a vague awareness of what he can do, if I’m remembering the show we went to correctly, but I can still handle myself.”

“Mikey.” Gerard stared at him hard.

“Don’t get jealous.” Mikey smirked and held out his hand. “Gimme the card.”

Gerard finally looked away and handed it over, huffing to himself. “Can you at least get in touch with him to let him know I wanna talk? Can you do that much?”

“I guess so.” Mikey drew out the words with emphasis. “Damn, Gee. So needy.”

  
  
  
  


Gerard reclined as comfortably as he could in a metal chair, slowly swirling around a glass of Nebbiolo as he stared off at the sliver of the Vatican that wasn’t obscured by the other shops and cafes, doing his best not to scowl. If Mikey wasn’t under threat of self-disintegration for even stepping foot in this place, he wouldn’t even need to be here. And yet, it was interesting, in some way, to see what this place was like up close. It was even more interesting how warm of a day it was for mid-January. For all he knew, it could have been early spring by the weather. Gerard just pretended it had something to do with God for amusement.

His train of thought veered off when he heard the chair on the other side of his table pulled out. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Francis.”

“Fuck you, too, Pastor Way.” Frank, dressed down in old jeans and a Misfits shirt under a leather jacket, folded his hands neatly as he leaned forward. “What could your church possibly want with me?”

Gerard sipped his wine, a polite smile curling behind his glass. He eyed the ink now covering what peeked out through his skin, most of them references to what he could only assume he’d find looking upward in the Sistine. When he set the glass down, he hummed. “You might be surprised, but I was wondering if you could help me out with an issue. I’ve heard you’ve been training in a special squad in the Gendarmerie,  _ si _ ? I’m surprised they let you in, considering the height requirement.”

Frank straightened his posture and took a deep breath. “What of it?” His voice dropped, his stare exhausted already.

“I’m in the market for someone of that specific skillset for a task, not unlike your work in Gothenburg. Except this time, I can guarantee you that my brother will not stand in your way.”

“Gosh, you make this proposal sound right up my alley.” Frank’s smile was bitter, his nails idly scratching at his knuckles. “I have absolutely no reason to join forces with the likes of you, and especially not the--” He cut himself short, wary of anyone who might be able to hear them.

“Perhaps  _ you _ don’t, personally, but I am very well aware your boss has been wanting this person’s head on a plate for longer than we’ve both been alive. I promise you, the Vatican can have it.” Gerard eyed him for a while. He knew very well that there were still some remaining personal desires to join the cause, but it wasn’t worth mentioning. “Get me a chat with your boys, and let’s arrange something. We only have a limited time frame, we can target her in one specific place, but it’ll be extremely difficult to catch her afterward.”

Frank pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, inhaling as much as he could. “Mikey isn’t here, is he?” he couldn’t help but ask, and offered Gerard one from the pack.

Gerard simply plucked the one from Frank’s mouth and took a long drag. “No. You know how he is. Besides, we’re saving time by recruiting two people at once, so he was needed elsewhere.”

Frank stole the cigarette back. “Does it have to be me? The last two times I met him, things didn’t go so well.”

Gerard sipped his wine again, his eyes falling to the singular black arm warmer he assumed was covering up Frank’s freshest scar. Maybe it was still healing. “I’m pretty sure Mikey forgives himself the way he treated you in Jersey at this point.”

Frank squinted. “Did...he not tell you about the night in south Rome? The bar you two were at?”

Gerard’s eyes widened. “No...?”

“Oh.” Frank bit his tongue. “Well, let’s just say the reunion wasn’t that great for either of us.”

Gerard glanced away, keeping the glass close to his lips. That was a very long night for him, a painful night that stretched over two days. He wasn’t close enough to Frank to discuss any details, and when he found the courage to look at him again, it seemed they were both in the same boat. His heart sank at the thought of Mikey, to have lost two people he felt closest to.

Frank cleared his throat. “Anyway.” He picked at one of his nails. “I doubt he’s not over the whole assassination thing.”

“The work you did, however, is exactly the type of thing we need for this mission. As difficult as it is to believe, a man of God could really hammer down the nail in this proverbial coffin, and it would be doubly effective to have someone who knows us.” Gerard leaned forward, his index finger lightly tapping the table as he spoke.

“Okay, but why, though?” Frank asked through a cloud of smoke.

“Synchronization works better when minds think more alike.” Gerard began to smile in a way Frank severely disliked. “When there’s familiarity. When there’s  _ connection _ . Deny it all you want, but you were made for this. And, you have something to bring back from your travels in the end!”

Frank was quiet, his eyes darting around as if trying to find something to focus on. When he turned his head just enough, though, Gerard saw that he had an earpiece in. Typical.

“I shouldn’t.” Frank gave a faint shake of his head, then he sighed.  _ It hurts too much, _ he nearly said, and he hated the way Gerard looked like he was reading his thoughts.

“ _ Au contraire _ . I’ve given you more than enough reason as to why you should.” Gerard crossed his legs under the table. “Trust is an impossible thing to come by between people like us. Mikey trusts you. Not only that, cross my heart, he misses you.”

Frank’s stare nearly went dead. His hand pressed idly over his other forearm.

“Think about it. Would you still be alive if that weren’t true?”

The silence that followed lasted uncomfortably long, but Gerard’s gaze didn’t let up. He could tell that Frank was listening to whomever was on the other side of the earpiece. When their eyes met again, Frank sized Gerard up. “Are  _ you _ allowed to step on holy ground?”

Gerard’s smile curled with a hum. “If  _ you’re _ allowed to step on unholy ground...I think I’ll be okay.”

Frank inhaled another drag and lowered his gaze. “That wasn’t an attack. I was just trying to...apologize in my own way.”

Gerard chewed on his inner lip. He swallowed disgust at the tone of his voice; there was still care there.

Frank cleared his throat. “Anyway.”

“Anyway.” Gerard rested his hand over his own thigh. “Do we have ourselves a deal?”

“Come to the chapel at midnight to finalize things.” Frank pushed himself to stand again. “No offense, but we don’t want anyone to recognize you.”

Gerard blew him a kiss. “Thanks a ton.” He stood up and left Frank to pay his bill.

  
  
  
  


Mikey’s shoulders hunched as he walked past the long line of people. He huffed against the cold night air as he got closer to the entrance of what looked like a warehouse, but a heavy bass was thumping from inside the walls, and bright colors flashed against the dirty windows. Disregarding everyone who had probably been waiting for hours in the line, he approached the bouncer directly.

He frowned, brows knotted. “Who’re you?” he grunted.

“Let me in,” Mikey answered back without missing a beat.

The bouncer eyed him up and down, then shook his head. “No.”

Mikey sighed and squared his shoulders. “Let me in,” he repeated more calmly.

“Have you been drinking tonight?” the bouncer asked. His lip seemed to twitch in annoyance.

“No, just--” Mikey rolled his eyes. “Let me in.” He was already annoying himself.

They continued to have a staredown. Mikey could feel a strange energy coming off the bouncer, which made him question just where he, or they, actually came from. But before he could open his mouth again, he yelped when a hand clapped on his shoulder from behind.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” Mary purred.

Mikey flinched at the voice so close to his ear, and his pulse spiked. He’d never actually been face-to-face with the man before, and he admitted, it was intimidating for him.“Uh...let’s get out of the way,” he muttered before the bouncer got angry.

Mary chuckled and looked at the man at the door. “Guten abend, Sven.”

_ “Verpiss dich,” _ he grumbled back, glowering.

Mikey looked away in embarrassment and took Mary’s hand, gripping it tighter than he meant to. He dragged him to the side of the building, away from the line, away from where anyone could see them.

“Mm, maybe I know you from somewhere fun. Lemme guess your name, babycakes.” Mary’s free hand started to snake around his tailbone.

He shivered and squirmed away from the touch. “It’s Mikey.”

Mary’s jaw dropped in elation once he made the realization. “Mikey the Antichrist!” His mouth was quickly covered with a cool, very shaky hand, and his own drew back. Whoops, he accidentally flirted with a demigod.

“Shh-- please...not so loud.” Mikey bit his tongue. “We never actually officially met, but I know you know my brother. I-I’m a huge fan of your work by the way.”

Mary squeaked. His eyes were alight in joy.

“Promise not to draw attention? Please?” When Mary nodded, Mikey lowered his hand and took a deep breath. “Thanks. So, we need your help.”

“Did you come all the way out here just to find me? I’m so honored, most people just summon me. Wow...you really know how to make a guy feel special.” Mary pushed his hands up against his cheeks. “Uh, wanna take a walk with me? Berlin’s pretty kickin’ at night.”

“You don’t wanna go inside? I thought Berghain was where only the coolest of the cool people go.”

“Oh my god, the Antichrist thinks I’m the coolest...” The way Mary was bouncing on his heels and grinning so hard his face probably hurt. Such an eager smile would probably look uncool on anyone else, and yet he pulled it off. “Techno’s not my scene, your unholy eminence. But I’m more than happy to show you where the  _ real _ cool shit is.”

“So, if you don’t like this place, what are you doing around here?” Mikey raised a brow.

“Oh. Had to do a quick thing with someone who’s in line, don’t worry about it.” Mary shrugged.

“Uh, heh--” Mikey ruffled his hair bashfully. “--I mean, all I wanna do is talk. The Cardinal said you’re one of the most competent sorcerers in the world, and we...we  _ really _ need someone good. Because we got an astronomical task on our hands. So I don’t really know if I got time to fuck around.”

“A walk, then. C’mon.” Mary sauntered off back to the nearest street, chin high and a bounce in his step. “Sooooo. Big task, huh? You gonna keep leavin’ me in suspense, Mikey the Antichrist?”

“How...good are you with circles? Like...sealing, entrapment, banishment, that kinda stuff.”

“Pretty good, I’d like to think. But depends on the thing you’re trying to seal or banish.”

“A demon marquis?” Mikey’s voice shrank. He gave a nervous skip.

Mary blew out a heavy breath, visible against the streetlights above. “A  _ marquis _ , I mean, that’s pretty up there. The stronger the demon is, the more complex the ritual becomes, and the more components are needed. It’s not always just a matter of chantin’ some spell and throwin’ rocks at it.”

“Wait, does that really work for some spells? Throwing rocks?”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “It’s cathartic. But I digress. Got a time frame for this astronomical task? Because the prep work can honestly take anywhere from a few days to weeks.”

“Oh, well...March is the time it’s taking place. Third.” Mikey smiled in hope.

Mary nodded. “Yeah, alright. That sounds like enough time, though there’s a lot of shit to do in the meantime. D’you know about my rates?”

“Uh--” His eyes widened for a moment, and he coughed. “W-whatever it is you need, Mr. Goore, we can provide. I’m sure of it.”

Mary guffawed. “Mr. Goore! Damn, I don’t ever think anyone’s called me that before. Alright, then, Mr. Antichrist.” He gave an overdramatic bow. “You may have the pleasure of calling me Mary.”

“That’s, uh, you don’t have to bow.” Mikey’s face flushed and he turned his head away. “Uh, Gerard said we’re all going to have a meeting in Athens, so you’ll need to keep your schedule open.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Antichrist.” Mary seemed like he was in deep contemplation for a minute, like the decision was actually difficult. But once Mikey looked like he was prepping himself for disappointment, he finally smirked. “I’m just kiddin’. My schedule’s open now that I’m not doing band stuff or anything.”

Mikey went from looking almost frightened, to grinning, to looking genuinely worried. “Wait, why aren’t you doing band stuff? Did Repugnant break up?”

“Eeeeeh, I mean...not definitely.” Mary scratched the base of his skull. “We all got other work to do, and as much as we fuckin’ love the music...we got bills to pay.”

Mikey was all about ready to promise that he’d sponsor the band if need be, but his common sense filter caught him in time. He wasn’t here to fix a band, he was here to recruit a necromancer. “Okay. I get it. That’s really terrible to hear, though. You guys were a big part of Gee’s and my adolescent years.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stop for a few beers or something? I mean, no better place to do it than fuckin’ Berlin, Germany.” Mary’s hopeful gaze was relentless.

“Only if you agree to help us,” Mikey answered with an authoritative tone that threw Mary through a loop for a moment.

He blinked, taking a half second to recalibrate his brains. “Yes, sir.”

Mikey had to stop himself from grinning, then, and he distracted himself by pulling out his phone.  **got him** , he texted Gerard, and flipped it a few times in his hand before eventually sliding it back into his pocket.

For the first time of the night, Mary’s smile went devious, and he took Mikey’s hand. When their skin made contact, they both felt something jolt through their nerves. It didn’t hurt, more like someone set a level of vibration way too high. Mikey caught his breath, but instead of letting go, he pulled Mary’s hand closer to look at it. “Bune. That makes a lot of sense,” he thought aloud as he studied the sigil carved in the skin. “You appease it well.”

Mary hummed. “Yeah? Glad to know I’m doin’ my job well from the boss itself.” His eyes studied Mikey’s curious expression, and he squeezed his hand a little tighter. “C’mon, the bars are waiting for us.” He pulled Mikey down the street.

Mikey giggled quietly,  _ don’t be weird, don’t be fucking weird, _ and miraculously avoided tripping over his own feet. “Oh. Uh, we gotta be at the rendezvous by tomorrow morning, ideally before sunrise. Just so we have a time frame. Because...I can’t be in the sunlight for too long.”

Mary stopped right outside of the door, and pointed up at the sky. “Don’t look like the sun’s up to me, doll.”

“Yeah, obviously not  _ now _ .” Mikey scoffed, following him inside so they could sit at the counter. “Y’know. Just in case...” His phone buzzed, but he ignored it.

Mary raised a brow. “Just in case...?”

Mikey stared down at his twitching fingers. “Nothing. Just a warning in advance.”

Mary ran his tongue over his top teeth and turned his face away so Mikey couldn’t see him smile. “I’ll keep it in mind.” He ordered the first round. “So how is your brother doin’ by the way? Wanted to stop by one of the churches last time I was in the States, but didn’t have the time.”

“Oh, uh, y’know. He’s good. I haven’t really seen him all that much since...” Mikey cleared his throat. “Since everything went down.”

“Right, the-- the thing.” Mary nodded. “So, about that. I have some questions that might seem sorta unsavory, but could help out with your plan. Can I ask ‘em?”

“You really know how to grab attention, don’t you?” Mikey smiled timidly. “Go ahead, then.”

“Okay, lemme, uh, start with some context. When people die, not all of their energy just fucks off, y’know? There’s still energy in decomposition, and energy is pretty much as close to a soul as we got.”

Mikey nodded along when their drinks were placed in front of them, and then a thought occurred to him. “Shit, beer doesn’t have wheat in it, does it?”

“Not this stuff, nah.” Mary took a large gulp. “Right. So, granted, this isn’t the same energy the living use for their body. It’s necrotic energy, pretty nasty shit. But it can be used for some powerful magic, too.”

“Magic...for what we need?”

“Bingo.” Mary threw up a finger gun.

Mikey sipped pensively, taking time to connect the dots. “So. The...Papas? You wanna use their necrotic energy for the seal?”

“Three men of their bloodline? We could power a whole fuckin’ city with that.”

Mikey’s first instinct was to tell him to wait until they could discuss it with Gerard, but he remembered that he was sort of in charge of this part of the situation. The Papas’ bodies were not exactly  _ his _ to do with as he pleased, but at the same time, they kind of were. Still. “Let’s not talk shop in a bar. But thanks for the info.”

“What do you wanna talk about then, Mr. Antichrist?” Mary rested his chin in his hand, leaning a few inches closer.

“Uh...Mikey.” His phone buzzed again, and he sighed and checked the messages with a gasp. “Sorry. You can just call me M-Mikey.”

“Everything alright there?” Mary asked.

Mikey nodded. “Gee’s just mad at our other contact.”  **don’t kill frank!!!!!!!! plz hang in there** , he texted Gerard. “Right. Talking. Um, I found out some time ago that you’re pretty close with Copia, right? How’d that come to be?”

“Oh, psh. I went to the College.”

He choked on his beer. “Really?!”

“Yeah, but then I was kicked out for unsavory behavior or somethin’.” Mary shrugged. “Copia and I were pretty tight for a while. He makes a good study buddy. After I was kicked out, we still stayed kinda close, but it was more on a business level. And sometimes I get to hang out at his parties.”

“Study buddies, huh?” Mikey did his best not to let his assumptions get the better of him.

“Mmmmmhm.” Mary finished his drink. “So answer me this-- I guess I can wrap my head around the sunlight thing, so what’s your deal with wheat? I was expecting an allergy to garlic.”

“Very funny. I’m way more powerful than a vampire.” Mikey sighed. “Nope. Turns out that wheat is naturally a blessed crop. It’s the only thing that eucharists are allowed to be made out of.”

Mary breathed out a little, “huh” as his fingers tapped an uneven rhythm. “Remind me to go on a gluten-free diet, then.”

Mikey let out a ugly laugh. “Sure.” When he was finally finished with his own drink, he exhaled heavily.

“So, is it the same with wine?” Mary thought aloud, running his finger along the rim of Mikey’s glass.

Mikey squinted in thought. “Not...as much, but getting wine drunk is definitely not fun for me. Wine in itself isn’t exactly sacramental, so, I dunno. I still avoid it, though.”

Mary hummed in understanding, and his smile returned. “Next bar?”

He bit his lip as he contemplated. What was the harm in loosening up a little? As long as one of they were where they needed to be tomorrow and in well enough shape for the meeting, all should be fine. He held out his hand for Mary to take. “Next bar.”

Mary beamed and grabbed on. “You’re cute, Mikey the Antichrist.”

  
  
  
  


Gerard didn’t scare easily, most people who knew him knew that. He made extra sure that he didn’t show fear when he stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the chapel, but he knew he was trying too hard to the point where he looked angry. The surrounding statues were staring at him in judgment, seeing right through him. He only spared a few of them that towered above his face a glance, grumbling, “Fuck you,” before finally ascending the stairs.

A priest was standing outside, watching him approach, but he looked poised and polite. “Pastor Way. You’re a little early.”

Gerard shrugged. “You’re still here waiting, though.”

The priest just nodded, and gestured for him to follow. He unlocked one of the front doors and allowed him to step in first.

Gerard was sort of overwhelmed by how colorful everything was, and kept his eyes slightly down as to not get distracted. Despite trying to avoid all the murals, he couldn’t escape the feeling of all the eyes pointing to him again. Sweat accumulated on the back of his neck. He just kept his focus instead on the priest’s feet. Just follow him and get this shit overwith, get Frank, ship the fuck outta here as fast as possible. When the architecture became less and less colorful, Gerard found himself sighing a little in relief, and the priest stopped him in front of two deep brown double doors.

“I’m going to need to check you for weapons,” the priest said apologetically, and without waiting for Gerard to respond, removed his coat and gave him a thorough pat down.

This was too easy. Gerard was smirking, holding his breath when the priest knelt down. “Since I’m a little early, you think we got enough time--”

“Pastor...” The priest cut him off as he stood back up. He was avoiding looking Gerard in the eye now, keeping a straight face when he pulled a lighter and cigarette case from his pocket. Gerard pouted slightly when the pocket knife was removed from his boot. “Remove your shirt, please.”

Gerard’s lips parted, and he preened as he made a show of undoing his shirt buttons. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“You’re not here to talk to me, Pastor.” The priest tried to smile as politely as he could, eyeing the symbols Gerard had burned into his skin over the years. He pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket, a sheet of stickers, Gerard deduced, and he started sticking tiny white circles over every branding.

The stickers left a burning sensation at first. “Ow! Guess God’s not into safe, sane, or consensual, is he?”

“These are infused with holy water. Extra protection so the cardinal makes sure that you don’t try any sorcery during the meeting. You understand, right?” He procured a tiny bottle and gave it a small shake. “Could you look up for me, please?”

“Uh, no.” Gerard’s expression fell flat. The stickers’ irritation dulled to numbness.

“The effects will only last an hour at most, Pastor.”

He crossed his arms. “No.”

“You won’t be able to meet with the cardinals if you don’t.” The priest tried to keep his voice soft.

Gerard closed his eyes, his brow knotting hard. It was for the plan. He just had to suck it up for the plan this once. “Make it quick,” he said through gritted teeth, and pointed his gaze bitterly at the ceiling.

The priest mumbled a thank-you and proceeded to put a drop of holy water against the white eye. “Thank you. You’re all set.”

“What makes you so certain I don’t have any markings on my legs?” Gerard raised a brow, blinking. A tiny tear escaped to rest against the top of his cheekbone, but he left it there.

“The cardinal’s file on you is quite recent. He’s sure you’re clean,“ the priest stated. “You can put the shirt back on.”

Gerard smirked. “Maybe I won’t.”

“You will, though.”

As much as he wanted to keep playing, he knew there were more important matters to focus on, so he sighed and buttoned himself back up. The doors finally opened for him, and he stepped into an ovular room with a long conference table. The room didn’t have much lighting to it, only small lamps bolted to the wall in between the ornate white moulding and a desk lamp on the table. Only three men, one being Frank, waited for him at the center of the table. The other two, oddly enough, reminded him more of Copia, at least if Copia had a perpetual knife up his ass. So perhaps more like Secondo. Aesthetically, Copia, emotionally--

_ Fuck. Focus, Gee _ .

“You can sit,” the cardinal on the left said, gesturing to the chair across from them. “It’s an experience to meet you in person, Pastor Way.”

Gerard snorted. “Experience...”

“My name is Father Segreti, this is Father di Pasqua, and of course you know Agent Iero here.”

“Hey, Francis.” Gerard sat down.

Frank maintained his composure.

Father di Pasqua placed three manila folders down on the table and slid them forward, letting Gerard have a look. He also placed down a handheld digital recorder. “Here’s what we have in regards to you, your brother, and your target. For the remainder of this conversation, we’d like to record it for prosperity. Is that alright?”

Gerard leaned back and perused through Mikey’s file first. “Sure, I guess,” he answered with annoyance. They had Mikey’s alias on here, Michael Way, the address of their house in Jersey, his short police record, his medical history, his American social security, the last 50 major places he was seen in public, shit, God was thorough.

“Can you go into more depth about the feud between yourself and Cardinal Copia?” Father di Pasqua asked.

“There is none.” Gerard sighed, flipping the next page of the file. “I have said, countless times. I have my own denomination that I am very content with. I haven’t had the desire to take the papacy since I was sixteen, and I’m not going to want it any time soon. The media loves conflict. All I want to do is kill Sister Imperator, and I need your boy to do it.”

“You need a man of God,” Father Segreti spoke up.

“I need Agent Iero.”

“Why him?”

A smile grew deviously over Gerard’s mouth. “I’m surprised you don’t have it written down here. Michael Way, Antichrist, humans’ rights activist, Frank Iero’s childhood sweetheart. It’s very important information, you know.”

Both the cardinals looked to Frank, who, in return, stared up at the ceiling and wished he wasn’t here right now. “We are...aware of what happened in the past, which is none of your concern.”

“It kind of is. That’s exactly why I’m asking for Frankie, here.” Gerard laid the open folder down flat in front of him.

“Which you have failed to explain why, yet. So if you would please be so kind as to elaborate,” Father di Pasqua reminded him.

“King Solomon. The guy who sealed away the demon court of 72, right? So you’re aware of his magic triangle method?” Gerard held up three fingers, wiggling them. “Antichrist. An Emeritus. A warrior of God. Three beings that share a connection, powerful enough to put Marchosias back in her place. We make the triangle. We all share a common goal, and we all know how each others’ minds work. The synchronicity will only help get the job done more efficiently.”

“That’s great and all, but I’m not skilled in sealing,” Frank responded.

“I have a guy for that,” Gerard assured him. He laid Imperator’s file down on top of Mikey’s and started scanning it over. “First showed her face in 1964 at a Satanic meeting in LA, joined the ranks in Vadstena first as a Sister of the Clergy, then worked up the Polismyndigheten, I’ve always hated that word.” Gerard grumbled a few more things incoherently. “...suspected for high-level demonic activity,  _ duh _ , she can fucking shapeshift. You know that was her that set you up to kill the Papas, right?”

“We detected demonic energy off her, yes, but we were unaware of her true identity. But we shared a common goal at the time,” Father Segreti answered.

“ _ Your _ goal is to kill the whole clergy,” Gerard added sourly.

Father Segreti’s lips thinned with hesitation. “It’s our holy duty to disestablish evildoings.”

Gerard’s phone pinged, and his face lit up for a moment. He pulled it out and smiled to himself.  **good job :) dont let him buy u a drink tho** , he texted back to Mikey. “Right, sorry. Where was I?” he asked. “Oh, right. Disestablish evildoings, including killing the clergy.” Gerard scowled, slouching as he gestured to Frank. “So can I borrow him or what?”

“When you met with him earlier, you mentioned something about letting us take captivity of her?” Father di Pasqua asked.

“Yeah. My guy will fill me in more of the details on that.”

Father Segreti hesitated. “That’s not definite.”

“Listen, this is going to be the only chance we’ll be able to do this. It’s either you help me kill her, or trap her soul, or she takes over the fuckin’ church and wreaks havoc. I suggest you make the right choice.” Gerard’s gaze was bearing down on Frank, tapping his index finger down on the table.

Frank purposefully let the silence drag on for a moment, just to see Gerard’s reaction. Gerard was persistent, almost stone-like. He probably could win the world record for going the longest without blinking, if he wanted to. “Give him the papers.”

Gerard glanced at the two cardinals, settling on Father di Pasqua when another folder was slid forward.

“Just standard contracts. Agent Iero is not to be harmed in any way by you or anyone affiliated with you, and you nor anyone affiliated with you are not to do anything in your power to take him away from the church.”

Gerard read it more thoroughly. “Re-conditioning? You’re threatening to brainwash me if Frank gets hurt?”

“Only if you or Mikey hurt me, sunshine,” Frank assured him. “So don’t.”

Gerard bit down on his tongue hard, and picked the pen up to sign. As much as he would have loved to toss Frank around for everything that’s happened, he kept reminding himself about the importance of the plan.

Frank smiled courteously. “We’ll get a flight prepared immediately.”

“Oh, we can get to the rendezvous whenever I want--”

Frank laughed. “Oh, no no. Nuh-uh. We’re not using sorcery to move from place to place, we’re doing this  _ my _ way right now.”

Gerard has to swallow his offense, staring at Frank owlishly. “Come again?”

“The only demonic shit I’m taking a part in will specifically be saved to kill the Sister. I’m not being an accessory to your magic. You can spare a  _ few _ hours.” Frank knew he had the home turf, he had the higher ground here, and Gerard didn’t have much of a choice.

Gerard opened up his phone again, already disregarding the contract.  **might have to murder frank, rethink the plan?** When he got the response, he groaned. “Fuck you. Fine. We’re going to Athens.” Shoving the folders back at him, he stood up so fast, his chair almost tipped over.

“C’mon, Pastor. I’ll take you to the airport.” Frank walked around the table and pat Gerard harshly on the back.

“Mikey deserves better than you,” Gerard hissed as he stormed out of the room.

  
  
  


It was a pretty well-kept secret that Gerard  _ fucking hated airplanes _ . He’d only had to fly a small handful of times for work, and every time, he got through flying either through being aggressively sick the whole time, or sedated and sat on Lindsey’s lap in between taking off and landing. And considering he didn’t have the latter, he planted his feet on the pavement outside the private jet, glaring so hard that the stickers on his skin started to sting again.

“Gerard, come on. It’s only a two-hour flight, you’ll be fine.” Frank was already on the stairs, sighing in annoyance.

“Do we really have to? Can you please just suck up your holier-than-thou bullshit for one second? Literally, it would only take  _ one _ second to get there, Francis--”

“Get on the plane, Gerard.”

“I don’t want to.”

Frank pinched his brow hard enough to leave crescents in his skin. “It’s, like, almost 3AM. You can’t just fall asleep once you sit down?”

Gerard shook his head. “It’s not that easy.” Grunting, he reached under his shirt and started finally tearing off the stickers over his sigils. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Sure it is.” Frank tried to stay relaxed. “Listen, you’ll feel better once we’re with Mikey again. The time’s gonna pass before you know it, this is one of the safest planes in the world. The weather’s perfect for the trip, there aren’t any hazards standing in our way. Can we go now?”

The only upside to this, Gerard tried to convince himself, was that he could also make the two hours a living hell for Frank. Shifting his weight from one foot to another, his fingers curled up against the heels of his palms, and he finally carried himself on the plane, bumping shoulders with Frank along the way.

He was able to make it through takeoff, though his skin had gone alarmingly pale. His breathing was shallow, eyes shut so tight that it hurt, and the force of velocity made his muscles go rigid. But once the plane leveled in the air, his seatbelt was off and he locked himself in the tiny bathroom.

Frank tried not to watch Gerard; looking at him so wound up and ready to keep over made  _ him _ uncomfortable, but there was an underlying layer of pity for him. Or, maybe Frank wanted to pity him at least a little, until his mind kept bringing up just about every interaction they’ve had together. And yet.

Frank sighed and eventually got up to check on Gerard twenty minutes in, knocking on the door quietly among the sounds to retching. “Want me to bring you some water or something? Antihistamine?” Frank smirked. “An exorcism?”

“You’re a fucking waste of an orgasm, Iero,” Gerard croaked. “Bet your mom didn’t even enjoy procreating you.”

Frank’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “Does that make you feel better?”

Greard coughed. “...Yeah, lil bit.”

“Alright, hang tight. I’ll get you some ginger ale and you can berate me for a while.” Frank shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped back to the attendants’ area and scoured the mini fridge for a can of ginger ale, and returned to the door. “Open up.”

“Being nice to me isn’t gonna change shit, you know,” Gerard warned him after the door cracked open. He took the can, but set it down on the floor in front of him. He sat with his back pressed up against the wall, wiping the thin layer of sweat on his forehead. “You’re still a third-rate cop that doesn’t even get on his knees for fun.”

“I’m not a cop.” Frank picked at his nails.

“You so are.”

Frank decided to sit down in the aisle, keeping his back straight with his legs folded up. “I’m not, though.”

“Oh, sorry. Pardon me.” Gerard’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling as he pressed a hand to his chest. “I forgot you weren’t tall enough for the actual position, so they had to give you some sort of position in order to give you a participation badge.”

“Wow, original.” Frank smirked. “Is my height the only thing you can crack at?”

Gerard’s gaze fell on Frank with a newfound passion, and he smiled for a second before having to dry heave again. Once his stomach settled, he swallowed thickly and groaned, and grinned again through his ill pallor. It added to the whole evil look, if Frank was being honest. “You think you’re tough and strong now that you’ve got it in with the Vatican? You’re still that scared little Jersey boy that hid behind Nonna’s legs at the first sight of danger.”

“Mikey still liked me, though.” Frank shrugged.

“Yeah, and look where that’s gotten you now. Trying to cover up a broken heart with God’s oppression.” Gerard rubbed at the corner of his mouth with his wrist. “You never should’ve been friends with him in the first place. All it made you was a disappointment to everyone in your life. Your best friend, your parents, your grandmother, your priests...what kind of Catholic knowingly tries to keep feelings for the son of the devil?”

“I didn’t know until Rome, okay? He told me he was a Satanist before, but--”

“And when you  _ did _ find out? Did you drop your feelings?” Gerard looked down at his tattoos again. “Look at you. You have to physically cover yourself in shields to stop yourself from getting close to him, and you still decided to come along.”

“Gerard, remember the contract you signed.” Frank’s cuticles started to bleed from how harshly he picked at them.

“What, are you feeling a tug at your faith?” Gerard knocked his head softly back against the wall. “Y’know what? Fuck you. Fuck you, and fuck your parents and fuck your whole fucking religion for making Mikey ever feel bad. All things considered, he was a really good kid. He was weird, yeah, but he never  _ once _ took you for granted, never tried to turn you from your family. I’m still baffled why he fucking cared about you so much. I regret ever not ratting you out that day with the protest.”

Frank’s shoulders sagged. There was nothing he could safely say in the company of the few others on the plane, so all he could do was brace himself.

Gerard shifted onto his knees. “Mikey only had you as a friend growing up, and you let your family treat him like shit when all he wanted was one goddamn kid his age to share his interests with. To the point where he had  _ nightmares _ about your stupid grandmother.” 

“So is that why he killed her?” The thought slipped out before Frank could filter it, and he lowered his face. The icy nausea that he felt at the Papas’ funeral started festering in his gut.

“I dunno. I fuckin’ hope so.” Gerard shut his eyes again and breathed as heavily as he could, and tilted his head back. “And what  _ really _ gets me now is that you probably want to defend yourself now, about back then. You wanna defend  _ him _ , but you can’t because Lucifer forbid your bosses hear you say one good thing about the Antichrist.”

“I tried, y’know. I tried to tell my family that he was good. Ray raised him well, but they already knew before I did.” Frank scoffed. “I still broke rules for him. I still spent time with him against their wishes. I did what I could to make him happy, because that’s what I wanted. Because he made me happy.”

“And how’d that feel when you just got it all off your chest in confession the following Sunday? Did it even mean anything at that point? Did Mikey?”

“Yes, fuck! Of course he did. He always did.” Frank grit his teeth.

“I bet your hail marys didn’t mean a fucking thing, then. Looks like you just can’t win.” Frank seemed smaller in that moment, he started to look just like the willowy, sickly child from before. Gerard coughed again, then swallowed. “Okay. I think I’m gonna make it through the flight now.”

Frank stared at him, deadpanned. “Ready to go sit back down, then?”

Gerard shoved his middle finger in Frank’s face. “Sit this down, demonfucker.”

“Alright. Have fun with the turbulence.” Frank stood back up and kicked the door closed again, as hard as he could. The sound of the slam resonated through the tiny space, but it was cathartic.

The silence Gerard was left with didn’t help the ache all over his torso, but at least he could zone out until the plane landed.

From then on, it was a matter of shoving themselves in the back of a taxi. Gerard gave the location and curled his body up as childishly as he could, his temple pressed against the window as he watched the city go by. He could almost feel the acute shifting of Frank in his seat. Clearly, Gerard had gotten to him more than he expected, but now it was just annoying.

“Despite everything, he’ll still probably be excited to see you,” Gerard grumbled.

Frank crossed his arms. “Doesn’t matter much, anyway.”

“Shut the fuck up, yes it does and you know it.” Gerard shut his eyes, letting his voice shrink to a murmur. “Just-- shut up.”

Frank eyed the driver. Gerard sounded like he’d given him directions in Greek, so there was a possibility he wouldn’t understand the conversation. “I never wanted to hurt him, Gerard. I--”

“We’re not having this conversation.” Gerard glared hard at him. “You might be able to indulge in whatever fucking yearning you got going on, but you’re going to have to make a choice one day. And you’re going to choose God over him. Remember that.”

Frank refused to look back at him. Instead, he focused on where the taxi stopped. The building they arrived at was a museum on ancient witchcraft, and he followed Gerard out to the side of the massive structure. At the very back corner was a metal door he unlocked, and they entered a service elevator taking them up ten floors to a short hallway. He bit his tongue and hugged himself, feeling a growing tremor in his hands.

The opening of the door at the end of the hall suddenly seemed so loud, so terrifying, because Mikey was going to  _ be there _ . Right in front of him. He didn’t even know what to expect, but when he was finally brave enough to look in, he found himself at the doorstep of a penthouse that smelled like tobacco and cloves and dust.

But there Mikey was. Hunching over the side of a dining table with his forehead pressed into his palm with a quarter-full bottle of water. He had a few books open in front of him, but he didn’t even seem to bother to look up at either him or Gerard. Was he mad? Did he not want Frank to be there?

“Close the door, please,” Mikey cut the silence, and Frank snapped out of his paranoia and did as he was told when he finally entered the threshold.

Gerard exhaled a quiet groan, shoving his set of keys into his pocket as he stared at Mikey. Shaking his head, he walked closer to ruffle his hair. “What’d I tell you about letting him buy you a drink?” His voice was halfway gone; something he didn’t take into consideration from all the acid he’d coughed up.

Mary, who sat across from Mikey, smirked and folded his hands behind his head. “Did someone have a sinful night in the Vatican?”

Mikey eyed Frank. There was no possible way they did anything remotely...together. When Frank’s eyes widened, shaking his head back at Mikey, he could see the truth behind it, though the mystery of why Gerard  _ did _ look and sound so raw was still unsolved.

Gerard ran his tongue over his teeth. “Why don’t you tell me? How drunk did you get my brother?”

“Gee, nothing happened.” Mikey groaned. “Not like that.”

Mary wiggled his brow.

“If I found out you hurt him somehow, I swear to the devil, Goore, I will rip out your small intestine through your urethra.” Gerard jabbed his index finger in Mary’s direction.

“Ooh, is that a promise?” Mary purred.

Mikey forced a smile. “Hi, Frank,” he mumbled. “Sit down, I promise they can be more well-behaved than this.”

Frank was more stunned than he expected. At first, all he could see was flashes of the last time he’d seen Mikey in person, and to have him look, well, he wouldn’t say  _ calm _ , but a lot more normalized and docile threw him through a loop. No-- he just looked tired, maybe too exhausted to deal with the past. Still, he sat across the table from Mikey and folded his hands neatly. “Hey--” he choked out, and quietly cleared his throat. “How...how’ve you been?”

Mikey rested his chin in his palm. “Decent, all things considered. How’s your arm?”

Frank was quiet for a moment, and avoided rubbing a hand over the linear scars. “Fine, I guess.” He shrugged. His hands subconsciously fished around for his cigarettes. “Can I?”

“Yeah, of course.” Mikey’s eyes flicked back to Gerard. “Shit, what’d you do to him, Frankie?”

“We took a plane ride.” Gerard hunched over.

Mikey snorted. “Poor baby.” He reached out to brush some of Gerard’s hair behind his ear. “You okay to do the meeting today?”

Gerard swatted at his hand. “We’re all already here. Let’s just start formulating this plan. Mary?”

“Right.” Mary coughed quietly. “So, what I’ve gathered so far, is that you need a seal for a decently powerful demon.” He stood up and pulled out a piece of chalk from his pocket, and moved the ashtray on top of the table closer to Frank. He then drew a giant circle on the surface, and a triangle above it. A smaller circle was drawn in the triangle, and a tight, three-ringed coil in the giant circle. “There’s the basic outline of it, but there’s a lot of other writing and shit that actually goes in it. Mikey would have to stand in the triangle, then I guess Pastor and the Catholic stand, and this is important, at equal distance from each other.”

“And Imperator...goes in the center?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah. Now what would  _ really _ help the situation if you had two sets of three. Don’t get me wrong, your eye is powerful as is. But if you had the three spirits...” Mary started to draw two intersecting triangles through the circle.

“Like a star of David?” Frank tilted his head.

“Yeah, well, I mean, Solomon was David’s son...so makes sense.” Mary shrugged. “Anyway--”

“Three spirits?” Gerard cut in. “You wanna resurrect the Papas?”

“Not completely. Just use their remaining energy. I’m pretty sure they’d be eager to comply-- you said you’re doing this to seal What’s-her-face, right?”

“Imperator, yeah.” Mikey nodded, then glanced back to Frank. “Um...now, when you say  _ comply _ , what exactly do you mean by that?”

“She was behind the murders, right?”

“Yeah, so...they have to agree to cooperate? Would they, per chance, have a feel of anyone else who was involved in their murder?” Mikey cringed.

Mary’s eyes flicked between the three of them, then settled on Frank. “Uh--” He raised a brow, not quite understanding what Mikey was getting at. “Nnnno, probably not.”

“Okay. Backing up for a second, you said I have to stand right here?” Mikey pointed to the triangle.

Mary nodded.

Mikey scratched his jaw. “Okay...hm. I need to be present for the ascendency, so the sealing would have to take place right afterward.”

“What ascendency?” Mary asked, knotting his brow. “Copia’s? Wait, you’re not gonna try to hurt him during this, are you? Or, like, sabotage him in any way?”

“Rest assured, your study buddy’s not gonna be harmed or taken advantage of in any way. Gee and I have agreed it’s best for him to become pope,” Mikey answered.

Mary’s mouth shifted. “...Never shoulda mentioned anything about college,” he mumbled to himself.

Frank inhaled as much smoke as he could, his gaze shifting between Mikey and the necromancer. He held his breath until his lungs began to burn, and exhaled through the nose. When Mikey caught him squinting, he focused immediately back on the chalk drawing.

Mikey leaned back. “It’s fine, Mary. We’ve all got attachments.” He folded his hands as he could hear Frank’s pulse skip a beat across the table. “Copia has never been a threat, anyway.”

“Yeah, he’s about as ferocious as a wet sock.” Mary smiled to himself as he drew in a few more minor details, and added small x’s in place of where people should stand.

“And, obviously, the show will provide a good distraction for him so he doesn’t get in the way.” Gerard pulled out a cigarette of his own. 

For the next two hours, they buffed out a formal dossier on how the plan was to go. Mikey filled in the schedule of the actual show, where they could set up the seal, what the spell needed to activate, how best to lure in Imperator, et cetera. The tension between the four of them slowly ebbed away throughout the conversation, and by the time the ashtray was full, they had started to grow quieter.

Eventually, Mary stretched his arms back. “Jesus, I’m fuckin’ starving. Food break?”

“Someone probably has to go pick some up or something.” Gerard slowly stood up. “I’m beat, though. Just gonna try and sleep for a few hours instead.”

“Frank and I will go,” Mikey decided.

Frank blinked. “We will?”

Mikey shot him a look, said nothing more, and stood up to head toward the front door. He tossed his jacket on and pulled his hood up, and after he opened the door, he heard the sounds of Frank scrambling to catch up with him, smiling to himself.

Once they were outside, Frank shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “You gonna be okay out here?” he asked, squinting at the morning sky.

“Yeah. The sun is still hidden behind the buildings, and doing this really shouldn’t take all that long. Can’t be too hard to find something vegan and wheat-free, right?” Mikey chuckled.

Frank nodded timidly, fishing for another cigarette. “Uh...didn’t know you were in leagues with Mary Goore.”

“Pff.” Mikey shuffled his foot. “Don’t go all Gerard on me. He really just took me on a bar crawl, and we just kinda rambled on about how we’re fans of each others’ work.  _ Nothing happened _ .”

Frank’s nostrils flared. “Yeah, alright.”

Mikey eyed Frank up and down, then decided to change the subject. “Look at you, all rough-and-tough God’s warrior. What got into you?” He smirked.

Frank sighed as he lit the end of the cigarette. “The smoking’s just a stress thing, and, y’know. The tattoos are like Gerard’s sigils. They protect and guide me.”

“Y’know, one of the Satanic deadly sins is a lack of aesthetic. And you look like you’re trying pretty hard to keep one.” Mikey kept his eyes forward as they walked.

“What’re you tryin’ to get at, hm?” Frank raised a brow. “I’m pretty dead set on my beliefs.”

“Enlighten me.” Mikey raised his own chin a tiny bit.

_ Shit _ , Frank cursed inwardly, and stayed quiet for a good while. “I believe God keeps making me cross your path for a reason. He put me in the Vatican’s service to fight evil, and I really like doing that. But with you--” He inhaled a long drag. “--well, we kind of balance each other. I mean, I’m not an angel or anything, far from it. But I’ve gotta be good enough to do something significant in the world  _ with _ you, right?”

Mikey stopped walking, and waited for Frank to do so, too.

Frank blinked. “...What?”

Mikey bit back a smile and gently reached up to Frank’s mouth and pulled the cigarette away.

“You-- why do you both do that?” Frank asked, trying to swipe it back, but Mikey was too quick.

“Gerard did it to piss you off. I’m doing it because I can still feel your lips on the filter.” Mikey gently pressed his own lips to it, staring Frank square in the eye. He didn’t even breathe in, just let the heat linger on the tip of his tongue for a few moments. The feeling was, the only word he could describe it, spicy. The little amount of smoke that did manage to permeate his system was more intense than he expected, sort of like he, like the delicateness of smoke, would be okay with unraveling and dissipating in that moment, because he knew he could get put back together with Frank around. It was an overwhelming and very confusing feeling, and he tried his hardest not to succumb to zoning out.

Frank swallowed hard. His artery was almost visibly pulsing in his neck, and he stood there, dumbfounded, when Mikey returned the cigarette to him, brushing the edge of the filter against his lips. He could smell the difference in smoke when Mikey’s bitter cold fingertips brushed against his skin. “You okay?” he muttered with a small wince, as if he was the one that got hurt. Mikey’s tongue still tasted like hopps, from what he could observe.

Mikey gave his fingers a small shake. “Yeah. No biggie.” His smile grew. “You are important, Frankie.”

Frank got tangled up in his nerves, his lungs twitching in a shallow gasp. “W-we...” He idly reached out to brush his hand over Mikey’s sleeve, and he sighed heavier than he ever had in his life. No matter how hard he tried to keep his mind silent, Gerard’s words vibrated painfully through his skull.

_ You’re going to have to make a choice one day. And you’re going to choose God over him. _

“...should stop wasting time,” he finished his thought.

Mikey’s face fell. For a moment, it looked like he was bracing himself to be crushed.

“The longer you’re outside, the more dangerous it is. And those two don’t seem like they like to be kept waiting for food.” Frank turned quickly on his heel and continued on.

Mikey bit his lower lip and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact! the vatican police height requirement thing is real! according to wikipedia, in order to join, “a person must be an unmarried male between the ages of 21 to 24 of good health and a practicing Catholic. There are also minimum requirements of height and education— **standing at least 5’8”,** and being a high school graduate. Military service is not a requirement, but is advantageous.” frank is extra special tho, so they let it slide ;) i just found this fact kinda hilarious in context like imagine god telling you you’re too short to be a cop lmao


	8. 2002 (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trap is set. Gerard finally gets his revenge. Copia ascends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
> 
> this chapter went through 5 rewrites and my brain HURTY. but i hope it's good, it's finally sitting in a decent place for me!
> 
> content warnings: i wrote the word "fuck" a lot more than expected after re-reading through, eye horror, blood, and an offhanded joke about necrophilia

Gerard’s legs swung slightly from his perch on an angel statue. He observed Mary as he was milling around different graves, taking heaps of topsoil from them. Just enough from each so that he didn’t disturb the grave too much.

“Man, I fuckin’  _ love _ Mexico City. It’s, like, one of the most macabre places in the whole world. If I could choose any place to settle down, it’d be here,” Mary rambled. It was kind of impressive how someone so skinny could shovel away at dirt for hours.

Gerard found his demeanor oddly fascinating. “Maybe I’ll set up a few churches around here, then. We’ve already established a few in Florida and New Mexico, so maybe it’s time to cross country lines.” He leaned forward. “Would you go to my church if I set one up in this city?”

Mary stopped for a second, letting the shoved stand upright as he gave Gerard a look. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but just because I play with the dead, doesn’t mean that I play with grudges. Vengeance isn’t really, eh, my thing.”

“Yeah, all you care about is judging other people’s taste in metal and mooching off of Copia.” Before Gerard could duck, a clump of loose dirt was launched at his face. At least he was able to close his eyes and his mouth, and most of the dirt hadn’t stuck to him.

“If someone let  _ you _ have the keys to a bunch of five-star fuckin’ properties all over the world, would you not also take advantage of it?”

“Why would  _ you _ need keys? You never enter any building unless it’s through a window, you goddamn spider.” Gerard hopped off the statue and brushed out lingering dirt from his hair. “Anyway, you’re missing out. I give amazing sermons.”

“That’s because you’re a cheater,” Mary moved onto a new grave and started scraping the grass off.

Gerard’s smile vanished in a flash. “Wow. I don’t depend on my eye for every little thing, you know. I’m actually really good at talking to people.”

Mary leaned over, bellowing a laugh. “Fuck off, no you’re not! Not from the way I’ve ever seen you talk to anyone.”

“You haven’t seen me talk  _ professionally _ . And I think you should, because I’m great.” Gerard scoffed. “Anyway, shut up. You’re gonna attract attention.”

“Not like you’re being much help.” Mary pointed the shovel’s handle at him.

“How much dirt do you even need? You seem like you’re enjoying this a little too much, if I’m being honest.” Gerard nudged the wheelbarrow beside him with his hip. It wasn’t even full halfway, but it was still more dirt than he expected.

“Listen. The innermost circle has to be four and a half feet wide in diameter. And that’s where the dirt goes, so, to answer your question, enough to fill in a four and a half feet-diameter demon-sealing circle. Stop bitching.”

“I’m not! I just find your graveyard kink a little concerning, that’s all.” Gerard glanced over all the headstones. “I have never met someone who gets their rocks off on top of corpses.”

“Hey. I don’t shame you for your vengeance shtick, so lay off my graveyard thing. Now grab the fuckin’ wheelbarrow and let’s get outta here.” Mary tossed the shovel on top of the collected dirt.

Gerard sighed and pushed the dirt over to the pickup truck they’ve rented. The shovel was tossed in the flatbed first, then he was careful dumping the dirt out in the back. He circled around to the front and got in the passenger’s side, groaning quietly. “Tell me why you convinced me to make the circle outside? Won’t there be more of a risk of someone seeing us?”

“Uh, unless you wanna die from suffocation, you’re fuckin’ doing this outside. There’s gonna be a  _ lot _ of fire. Fire from the circle, and fire from the fire-vomiting demon, who most likely wants to set you on fire.” Mary turned on the engine, glaring at Gerard. Gerard snorted, trying not to laugh. “And fire, as you know, sucks up oxygen faster than you can comprehend. So if you’re actually planning on living through this, we’re making the circle outside.”

Gerard inhaled deeply and silently, watching the graveyard go by as Mary drove. “...Sorry. Just anxious.”

“You’ll be fine, sugar.” 

He suddenly found himself missing Lindsey a little, on top of his anxiousness.

“You got a shitload more spirit than anyone else, so use it well.” Mary smirked, and turned up King Diamond on the radio.

They drove up a mountain, where the tree density grew thicker. Gerard started to get a little more concerned; the last thing he wanted to start was a forest fire, so he made a mental note to keep that in mind. When Mary parked, Gerard stared out at the grassy clearing and took a deep breath.

He stepped out of the truck and stepped over to the edge, looking over the lights of Mexico City. “You sure this isn’t hallowed ground or sacred Aztec soil or anything?”

“Cross my heart.” Mary made a little ‘x’ over his chest before grabbing a handful of ground spikes and a tape measurer. “Now come on and help me.”

Gerard snorted. “I figured you sold your heart for immortality or somethin’ by now,” he thought aloud. When Mary handed him the ground spikes, he pushed the first one down in the dirt.

Mary pressed his hands to his hips. “You wanna see it?” he asked, pulling his shirt up to his collarbone. “I could show you.”

“I really would love to, but we don’t have time.” Gerard sighed, as if he was genuinely disappointed. “Maybe later.”

“Fine, your loss.” Mary leaned down to stick the end of the tape measurer in beside the ground spike, then pulled it out until he reached 9 feet. “Here.”

Gerard set the second spike down. “This circle is pretty precise, isn’t it?” he thought aloud.

Mary snorted. “Yeah. Hilariously enough, the reason you don’t really find that many advanced magic users is because of the math involved. Most people don’t expect to need a geometry book to raise the dead.”

“I can understand chemistry being needed more than geometry.” Gerard set another spike down.

“Math is math, Pastor.” Mary stood up straight for a moment to crack his back. “And people underestimate how fuckin’ smart I actually am. It’s fun to throw people through a loop like that.”

“Good for you,” Gerard said flatly, though he smirked.

Mary squatted and pointed to another spot on the ground. “Hey, so after we’re done here--”

“I’m  _ not _ going out for tequila shots with you,” Gerard cut him off, stomping on a ground spike. “The show is tomorrow. I’ll die if I face Imperator with a hangover.”

“Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go check out this bruja that’s performing a ritual downtown, but I guess not.” Mary pulled out a small can of spray paint and shook it vigorously.

“Sorry, but we gotta get back to our hotel room straight away. We need as much rest as we can get.”

Mary whined. “Gerard--”

“No!” Gerard grossed his arms. “I need you at your strongest, and I’m not taking risks. I’ll owe you one.”

“You already owe me one for all of this shit. You should be owing me, like,  _ five _ .”

“Then make it six!”

Mary smiled knowingly at him. “If you say so. Six it is.”

Gerard chewed on his inner cheek, and placed another ground spike down.

  
  
  
  


Mikey leaned forward against the barrier between the pews and the altar of the main chapel. There were no amps or auxiliary equipment set up besides the small ones that clipped to the ghouls’ belts. This was the final rehearsal before the start of the tour. Nihil wanted to make sure he got everything right, and it was interesting to see him at work. He had a passion Mikey didn’t see very often.

His attention was pulled when he heard footsteps behind him, and even Copia turned to look for a moment before muttering something to Aether.

“Permission to sit beside you?” Ray asked.

Mikey smiled out the corner of his mouth. “I keep telling you, you don’t have to ask me.” He sat as well and gestured to the empty spot beside him.

“Common courtesy. There are other people around,” they reminded him, and sat on the pew with their hands folded in their lap. 

Mikey inhaled deeply, and straightened his posture. “So.”

They kept their gaze down at their twitching fingers. “I’ve thought a lot about Gerard’s proposition. And I know you’re not entirely on board with the idea, but you know it’s not forever. You’re going to be going out a lot more often-- you’re going on the tour tomorrow, and it’s the first time in a while you’ll be away from...”

“I know.” Mikey tapped his fingertips together. “Just, ugh. I don’t wanna be your keeper. I know you’re only going to get stir crazy here, so you and Martin should go do what you do best. Okay? Don’t worry about me.”

“Michael.” Ray was speaking in that caring voice, and it made Mikey slightly sick. Ray didn’t have any idea what was about to happen at the upcoming show, and today wasn’t the day he would find out. If they knew, he only feared that they’d try, and possibly succeed, in trying to talk him out of it for his own safety.

Mikey bit his tongue and forced a smile. “Just promise me we can hang out one last time before you go? After I come back from the tour.”

“How’s about this. I’ll keep you to that promise, but I also have extra time right now. I wanna show you something.” Ray smiled and nudged Mikey’s shoulder. “Think they’ll be okay without you for a bit?”

He glanced back at Copia and Nihil talking about rhythm and synchronization, and he chuckled. “Yeah. They’re good.” When he stood up, he caught the cardinal’s attention. “Keep going, I’ll be back later,” he announced.

“Fine by me,” Copia responded, waving him off.

Ray stepped out of the chapel with Mikey in tow, their hands folded neatly behind their back. “I can’t imagine how stressful things have been recently--” Poor Ray really had no idea. “--and I was a little nervous that things might also be stressful on the tour. So I planned a little something special in hopes that you find some relief.”

Mikey grinned, lowering his face. “Thanks. I can’t possibly guess what you did, but I’m excited.” He was guided back down to the ghouls’ wing, which made him even more curious, but his expression went from cheeky suspicion to shock the moment Ray opened the door to the common room. It had temporarily been turned into the old living room from their house in New Jersey. It was only a replica, of course, not a portal to the actual house, but it looked realistic enough. Ray even managed to get the smell of old drywall and the creaky floorboards in the exact spots he remembered. “Oh, Ray...”

“Movie marathon?” they offered. “I got all the old tapes and everything. I just remembered all the times you used to get sick and how easy it was for you to relax when you were curled up on the couch, and--”

“This is so cool.” Mikey immediately ran for the old couch and threw himself on it, burying his face into the cheap pillow resting against the arm. The couch was smaller than he remembered now, though he knew that was only because his body got bigger. Still, the sentiment was there. “Let’s pop in Amityville first.” He sat up. “How many blankets do we have?”

“Enough for a nest. You take care of the movie, and I’ll grab ‘em,” they said, and disappeared for a moment behind a corner.

By the time the movie started, the couch cushions had been rearranged with the organized mess of blankets. Mikey had cocooned himself and laid back in the nest, his whole body relaxed. He hadn’t zoned out, but it was more difficult than he expected to pay attention to the plot. He’d seen the movie hundreds of times anyway. He just wished he could completely let go of his current worries for at least two hours.

“...Ray?” he muttered, sighing.

“Yes, Michael?”

“I know the tour’s gonna be fine and everything, just...” He could already feel them giving a worried look, though he didn’t directly look at their face. “I’m really happy you’ve been such a big part of my life. And I’m sorry that I was ever too much for you to handle.”

Ray was quiet, and he nodded. “You were never too much for me, ever. I’ve never had to raise a child before...I don’t think any ghoul ever had to do that. But being your guardian was one of the best things I’ve ever done.”

Mikey sank further into his cocoon, grinning. “You’re gonna be amazing in America. I have a really good feeling about it. I mean, I’ve never been able to see Gee’s shows before, but something in my gut tells me that you’ll really be in your element.”

“Well, you do have a few demons in you that can see parts of the future,” Ray murmured with a chuckle. “Would you come visit us if we ever start performing?”

“You will, and yes.” Mikey leaned over to rest his head against Ray’s arm. “I won’t be upset if you eventually end up staying there. Just as long as we get to hang out every once in a while.”

“Michael--”

“I mean it. I know you’re technically supposed to serve  _ this _ church, but you take orders from me now. And, and this is only if you want it in the future, I can relieve you of your obligations here. Martin, too.”

They pulled the blanket down from over the top of his head so they could stroke his hair. “We’ll talk about it when the time comes, okay? You’re supposed to be de-stressing right now.”

“I am.” Mikey closed his eyes, and he could already feel sleep creeping up on him. “Just want you to be happy.”

  
  


_ “Antichrist?” _

Mikey grumbled and twitched.

_ “Antichrist, it’s time to get ready to leave.” _

“Alright, shit.” Mikey rubbed his eye and squinted at the person above him. “Oh. Sorry, Copia.”

The cardinal smiled back at him. “I understand. Everything is packed up and finalized, and your car’s waiting for you.” He held out a hand.

Mikey took it and raised himself to his feet, letting the blanket drop around his body. “Yeah. Cool.” He smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt, then looked back to Ray. “Thanks again for doing this for me. I’ll uh--” He bit his tongue hard, feeling a dull ache in his chest. “Bye, Ray.”

They just smiled back and started folding up the blankets. “I’ll see you soon, Michael.”

As Mikey followed Copia out into the hall, he rubbed the side of his own neck. “Sorry I didn’t make it back to the rehearsal in time. How’s Nihil doing?”

“Just fine, no worries. He’s eager to be on tour again.” Copia shrugged. “And his talent hasn’t withered with old age, which is relieving.”

“You were afraid that it had?” Mikey teased.

Copia bit back a smile, remaining silent.

  
  
  
  
  


Mikey tried to stay somewhat distant from the clergy on the way over to Mexico City. He only spoke when someone asked him important questions, and everyone else got the hint to keep their distance. When they made it to the arena, Mikey only stayed around to make sure everything got in their places safety and oversought sound check, and in the meantime, he waited for the others to arrive.

Gerard and Mary were the first to appear, since they were already waiting in the city to be called, and Frank arrived an hour before showtime. Since Mikey needed to stay close to the show, they had to be extra careful sneaking around.

Mikey, Gerard, and Frank all stood in a broken triangle by one of the emergency exits at the arena. “Okay. You two will wait in Copia’s dressing room as quick as you can.” He checked his watch. “We’re about 30 minutes in. He should take an hour on stage, and finally come back to get prepared for the ascension and take him by surprise. That’ll grab Imperator’s attention, and you let me know  _ immediately _ when you get her in the circle,” Mikey told them.

Gerard nodded, and pressed a finger to his ear. “Mary, are you in position?”

“Yeah, I’m with the coffins,” he repeated back. “Come meet me by them when you get the chance.”

Gerard sighed. “I’m on my way.” Shifting his gaze back to Mikey, he smiled apologetically. “I’ll let you know when I get to the dressing room.” He pulled Mikey in for a tight hug. “I love you, Mikes.”

“I love you, Gee. Now get a move on,” Mikey muttered in return, rubbing his back before he disappeared inside.

Frank took a deep breath and smiled at Mikey. “You okay?” His fingers were twitching right over his pocket that held his pack of cigarettes, but he refrained from touching it just yet.

Mikey nodded, and he let the silence drag on as he watched Frank’s features twitch. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

“It’s fine, Mikey. I’ll take care of myself.” He shifted a few inches closer, close enough so that his breath visible in the cold brushed over Mikey’s cheek. He folded his hands behind his back. “You’re not worried about me, are you?”

“What would you do if I was?” Mikey smirked back at him.

Frank’s smile dropped. “I...can’t do anything. Not anything I wish I could, anyway.”

“It’s okay, Frankie. I know.” Mikey whispered. He reached up to press his hands to Frank’s face, cold leather gloves separating their skin. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

Frank huffed. “I wish you made it harder to...to not fucking yearn for you. Why couldn’t you have been more of an asshole?”

“Y’know, ever since the graveyard...every time I’ve been around you since, I could feel a storm deep inside me.” Mikey guided one of Frank’s hands to press against his chest. “Right here. I still don’t know what it means to this day.”

Frank let his head carefully drop to Mikey’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s your own people trying to warn you. Like your dad or something.”

Mikey snorted. “My dad can’t tell me what to do.” Frank was so close to him, one gentle touch could burn him, but he wanted to get as much as he could out of this. “I dunno what’s gonna happen tonight. Just let me be close to you, right now.”

“This has to be the last time, Mikey Malocchio.” Frank sighed, pressing a hard kiss against the collar of Mikey’s shirt. “We can’t do this anymore.”

Mikey’s chest rose and fell. “Fine. If that’s what you want, but don’t make me let go yet.”

“I gotta.” Frank bit back a whine, and pulled away. He took Mikey’s hand and pressed a final kiss to his knuckles. “I’ll see you on the battlefield.”

Mikey forced himself to look away as Frank went inside, and he covered his face with a groan.

  
  
  
  


Gerard’s arms were crossed as he watched Mary gently examine the three corpses.

“Okay, so here’s the good news and the bad news. Good news is, that when they were in the morgue, someone put a spell over them to slow the decomp down, like, really slowly. Probably because nobody wants to see rotting flesh.”

“You do,” Gerard interrupted.

“Shut up,” Mary chided. “Bad news is, the necrotic energy’s trapped under the spell and I can’t tap into it. And the only way to break it is with living blood from someone of the same lineage.”

Gerard clicked his tongue. “I kinda  _ need _ my blood right now, Mare.” He looked distressed for a moment, until his eyes lit up. “But you know who  _ is _ here? Nihil.”

Mary raised a brow. “Why?”

“Apparently he’s a part of the show or something, fuck if I care. Just-- I know it may be cutting it close, but do you think you can get the energy in time?” Gerard shrugged. “Just let him do what he needs to do first, we don’t wanna fuck up the show. The less people tied to Imperator, the better, anyway.”

“Brutal.” Mary nodded, then exhaled deeply. “Fine, I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re gonna figure out a way.” Gerard said it with more authority than he meant, then relaxed more. “This is gonna work. You got this.”

“Okay. Get on with it, you got about 20 minutes left.” Mary waved him away.

Gerard nodded and hurried off back up the stairs to the main lobby. Thankfully, everyone was inside already, though the emptiness made him feel more vulnerable. It worked in his favor, though, it had to. He needed to be seen. Wherever she was lurking, Gerard knew she wasn’t going to stay out of sight for much longer.

Just to provoke her further, he pulled out one of his knives and flashed it subtly in his hand as he hurried through the corridor. He bypassed the human guards easily by staring at them long enough, circling around to sneak into the backstage area. By that point, he could hear distant footsteps behind him, more than three pairs at least. She’d brought backup.

To throw them off his trail, he used his sigil and opened the closest door to him to take a shortcut to Copia’s dressing room.

Frank jumped in surprise, but was quick to calm himself. “Everything okay with Mary?”

“Yeah, yeah. We got it all sorted out.” Gerard passed him a knife before leaning against the wall to catch his breath. “You might need it.”

Frank squinted. “What did you do?”

“Marchosias leads legions of demons, you think she came here alone on one of the most important days in Satanic history?” Gerard scoffed. “C’mon. Use your brain.”

“So they’re actively looking for us now?” Frank asked.

Gerard bit his tongue. “Maybe. Probably.” His eyes shifted. “They’re looking for  _ me _ . They don’t expect you to be here. I think I’m gonna fuck with them a little longer, try to distract them. As long as it’s not actually Imperator that shows up, we can stall for Mikey.”

Frank raised his brow, then nodded incredulously. “Great.”

“Just shut up and don’t move unless you have to defend yourself.” Gerard pointed a finger at him and opened the door back up, leaving it cracked as he crept into the hallway. He drew another knife from his boot and looked both ways, then chose a direction to run, making sure he was loud enough to draw attention.

Frank took a deep breath and kept his ears open. It was hard to ignore the music from the stage; it sounded like it was echoing  _ everywhere _ . On top of that, Copia’s voice had a certain pull to it that he couldn’t ignore, but it wasn’t the voice that really got through to Frank.

_ “I can feel your soul is not tainted, even though you’ve been told so--” _

He hopped off the table and huffed, trying to block out the song. This was the worst time to lose focus.

_ “I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart, I can see through the scars inside you...” _

Shaking his head, he left the dressing room and was greeted with the faint sounds of snarling and heavy clicking, like nails against the floor. Around the corner, Frank was met with a green-skinned creature with eyes like laser lights, it wasn’t a ghoul, it was a  _ demon _ , and it immediately charged toward him. He held his knife up and cut it from the throat to the stomach, shutting his eyes when it turned to dust all over his body.

He coughed and wiped the dust from his face, and hurried to follow Gerard from a distance to make sure he didn’t trap himself in a corner.

  
  


Mikey was leaning back in his makeup chair with his neck craned comfortably as he let a Sister paint his throat black. When his door opened, he raised a brow.

The person in the doorway didn’t speak at first, but Mikey had a sure idea of who it was. His core vibrated, and his fingers tightened against the chair’s arms on instinct. “Pardon me for interrupting you, Antichrist.”

“Yes, Imperator?” Mikey shut his eyes, still trying not to move for the Sister’s sake. “I don’t recall putting you on the VIP list, so I must ask why you’re back here.”

“Because your brother is trying to sabotage Copia’s ascension.” She stepped further into the room until she was hovering over his face. “I have some of my own taking care of it, so rest assured. He will be safe.”

Mikey feigned a look of shock. “Nothing can stop Copia from becoming pope. Nothing should get in the way of this.”

“It’s alright. Nothing  _ will _ .” Imperator smiled down at him.

Mikey lifted his head back up so he could stand. “Thank you for coming by. I was worried you were going to miss the ceremony, Copia would be most disappointed.” He held his arms out so a Sister could start dressing him. It was good timing, too, because the eyes under Mikey’s skin shifted the closer she got.

“I can’t say for certain, but I’m sure that I saw an agent from the Vatican here as well,” she added.

Mikey tensed. “Find him for me. Take care of the problem. When you come back, we can talk about your unexplained absence and the terms of your position here.”

“Thank you, Antichrist.” Imperator bowed. There was something about her smile that gave Mikey the chills, even when he refused to look at her face. He stared hard at the wall, his teeth clenched together hard. Gerard and Frank had to be careful now.

After the Sisters departed from the dressing room, he rushed to stick his earpiece in. “This is Mikey, Imperator’s arrived on the scene. Can you keep her occupied long enough?”

“I’m gonna need 10 more minutes,” Mary answered.

“Make it a quick 10 minutes, then. I’ll get her attention,” Gerard chimed in.

Mikey sighed. “Frank? Status update.”

“There’s demons in the halls. Gerard and I are taking care of ‘em.”

“ _ Motherfucker-- _ I told you to wait in Copia’s--” Gerard cut him off.

“There’s no time now! Just get her to the fucking circle, I’m going over to the stage. Fight  _ them _ , not each other. Mary, you have your ten minutes.” Mikey huffed and stormed into the hall. “Idiots,” he muttered to himself. He hurried down to the side-stage and pushed his hair back to calm himself.

Nihil’s face lit up when he saw Mikey show up. He fiddled idly with his saxophone as he glanced between him and the ghouls on stage.

Mikey smiled back at him. “You look like you’re ready to melt some faces.” He pat Nihil on the back. “All set?”

“Yeah, it’s just like old times.” Nihil stood tall.

“I wish I could’ve seen your shows back in the sixties. You give me the impression that you were the fun Papa.” Mikey chuckled.

“Well, here’s your little taste coming up.” Two Sisters gently took him by the arms and escorted him behind the stairs and made sure he didn’t trip before his solo.

Mikey took a small step back and folded his hands as he watched, until something caught his eye from the other side of the stage, behind the curtains. His eyes widened. “Mary, what the fuck are you doing?!” he hissed in the earpiece.

“It’s all a part of the spell. I promise, I won’t fuck it up for Copia,” he promised, crawling to hide behind the stairs.

Mikey stepped forward as well, just glaring at Mary in warning. The eyes fluttered underneath his robes, and his hands gripped each other harder.

  
  


Gerard could see Mikey from the mouth of the hallway that led into the stage, and he flipped his knife in his hand. He was shaking, and paranoia made him turn his head one last time. Four demons were crawling toward him, four demons behind a marching Imperator. They stared each other down, until Gerard took off running again. “Frank! Left side stage corridor!”

He knew the demons were quicker, so once he was far away enough from the stage, he turned to slice the first two demons open, stumble backward, and kick the third that pounced on him in the ribs.

“Don’t think that you can take the papacy for yourself, Pastor. When I say I’m ending the Emeritus line, I do not back down on my intentions.” Imperator closed the distance between them.

Gerard scrambled back on his feet. “You can’t end me. And you can’t take Mikey.”

“Your brother can’t save you this time,” Imperator’s eyes glowed like embers, then stopped when a loud  _ pop _ went off and fog blinded her momentarily. She coughed violently and stumbled back, her skin peeling and bubbling upon contact with the fog.

Frank ran up to Gerard. “Okay, I’m here.”

Gerard huffed and rolled up his sleeve, then Frank’s. “Took you fucking long enough.”

“What are you-- OW!” Frank tensed up when Gerard lightly stabbed him in the arm.

“Shhh, consider us even for the plane now.” Gerard slathered his hand in Frank’s blood and pressed it to his own arm. “God, I love virgin blood.”

“Dude...” Frank glared at him in disgust.

Gerard smirked and gripped Frank’s hand, then took Imperator by the hair with his other hand, and they vanished from the stadium and out to the open night air. He hissed at the pain the holy fog bomb caused as it fought against the transport spell, but he shook it off. “Mary? Mary, how long until you get here? We’re at the circle.”

  
  


“Sixty more seconds, start counting,” Mary whispered back, staring up at Nihil. He pulled out a dagger from his belt.

“Mary--” Mikey held out a hand. “Wait.”

“Sorry, but it has to be done.” As Nihil took a pause in his solo, smoke swallowed up the old pope, and Mary crawled up the steps behind him.

“MARY!” Mikey hissed louder, but all he could do was watch as the dagger plunged into Nihil’s back. Mikey covered his mouth as he watched Nihil fall backwards into Mary’s arms. Nihil was dying, right there, and the old man was staring right back at him. Mikey couldn’t tell if Nihil was looking up at him in pleading or betrayal or just...acceptance, but there wasn’t much time to keep staring.

“Uh, Mr. Antichrist?” Mary snapped him out of his semi-shock. “That’s your cue. Don’t worry ‘bout this, I got it.”

Mikey gawped. “Mary, what the fu-- goddammit, we’re talking about this later. Don’t think I won’t forget.” When Mary gave him a confident smile, Mikey took a deep breath and waited for the spotlight to beam down on Copia before he let himself float up to the raised platform. With his six massive wings of light spread out behind him, his feet didn’t even brush the black fog rolling across the floor.

  
  


“Shh, you’re okay.” Mary stroked Nihil’s face, collecting the blood from his wound in three jars. He started whispering both to himself and to Nihil, right up until his last breath. “Thank you for all you’ve done, Papa. May you reign in Hell.” He dragged the body off to the side before anyone could notice him, and he grabbed the jars. “Gerard, I’m on my way.”

“We could really use you right now!” Gerard responded. The grounds were crawling with demons now, and once Mary finally appeared, he took a few steps toward him. “Did you do the thing?”

“Yeah, just need to activate the circle first,” Mary answered. “And get all these fuckers out of the way.”

“Oh, Mary Goore. What a shame you’ve chosen the wrong side.” Imperator tutted. She crossed her arms, standing in place. The others couldn’t even touch her, so she took the time to make little scuff marks in the circle to break it.

Frank managed to fight his way to her, shoving her closer to the center. “Did you bring backup paint or anything?” he shouted.

“Heads up!” Mary pulled out a spare spray can and launched it into the air.

Frank had to hop over a demon corpse to catch it, and he stumbled and fell into another demon. It writhed in pain and died slowly when it touched his skin. He caught his breath and hurried to fix the circle, though Imperator had taken to putting more holes in it.

Gerard crawled out of a writhing pile of bodies, growling in annoyance. “Frank! Toss me a water bomb!” he shouted, and it nearly slipped out of his hand. But he saved it at the last moment and slammed it down on his knife before charging at Imperator.

She sighed and grabbed him by the front of his shirt with lightning speed, shaking her head. “Gerard, come now. These games are getting old--”

While she was patronizing him, he reached around and jammed the blade into the back of her head. Her eyes bugged, and she grimaced when he sliced down her skull and spine. Fire shot out from the open cut.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck--” Gerard grunted to himself. Imperator’s body was weakening, but at the same time, a guttural howl pierced the air. A scarlet wolf twice Gerard’s size, with a stripe of bright, blazing red fire blazing down her back, emerged from Imperator’s body. Her muzzle was only inches away from Gerard’s face as he dropped the human body, and he could feel her hunger.

“GET DOWN!” Gerard screamed as he did so himself, and rolled out of the way from a beam of fire that shot from her mouth.

  
  


The crowd was going wild. The Sisters were gathering around Copia, stripping him of the white suit he’d entered the stage on, and Mikey’s feet finally touched the floor as he descended the stairs to meet him.

Copia was exposed before Mikey, clothes flung carelessly behind the stage curtains, or at least close enough, and they locked gazed. Mikey could feel the man’s pulse as if his heart was trying to thrash out of his chest, but neither of them blinked. This part was just for them.

“Marquis Phenex,” Mikey started. Copia’s eyes widened. “Do you swear to uphold the infernal law and spread the almighty word of Satan?”

“I swear,” Copia answered. The Sisters began to dress him again in light black trousers and an undershirt first.

“Do you swear to protect the Children and the Followers of Satan by any and all means?”

“I swear,” Copia repeated. The final robes and stole were draped over his shoulders. The fabric was heavier than he expected; royal blue and golds flowed down his frame, glittering in the high beams.

“Do you swear to listen to the Court of 72 and the ghosts of the past Papas and always follow the path that they guide you on?”

“I swear.” The Sisters made quick, yet accurate haste to paint the new, more streamlined skull upon Copia’s face. He tried not to laugh when he was tickled.

“Marquis Phenex. You stand upon a great power, and you know now what you must do.” Mikey held up the mitre and placed it gently on his head, and placed the thurible in his hand. “You are the voice of Ghost until your dying breath, so give them a legacy they won’t forget.  _ Per aspera ad inferi. _ ” He gave Copia a very chaste kiss, turning Copia’s lips black, and the Sisters parted ways so that the audience could finally see the new Papa in all his glory. The black fog had finally changed back to white.

The response of the audience seemed to fill them both with a sudden and energizing euphoria, and when Rain finally cut the silence on stage with the bassline, Mikey took a step back. The lights in the whole arena all went red. The rest of the back picked up on Con Clavi, and pillars of fire shot up behind the band, and on the edges of the stage. One pillar enclosed around Mikey, and by the time the fire was gone, so was he.

Mikey re-appeared in the green room, and he hastened to throw off his own robes. His skin felt like something was shifting all over the underside of his skin, and he shuddered. “Gee? Come in, what’s your location?”

_ “Mikey, it’s Frank. We can’t hold them off much longer, hurry up!” _

He swallowed hard. “Where’s Gee? Why isn’t he answering?”

_ “Kinda busy,” _ Frank answered again.  _ “We could really use your help now. Please.” _

“Okay. I’m on my way.” In the mirror, he could see his other eyes start to split open. “Fuck,” he grunted to himself. “Fuck, fuck fuck...okay. Let’s go.” He spread his wings out one more time and encased himself in a blinding light.

  
  
  
  


Gerard was starting to run out of breath. His muscles ached worse than he’d ever suffered before, but he kept slicing his way through as many demons pouncing at him as he could. Though the rabid snarling, Imperator’s maniacal laughter ran viciously in his ears. He could hardly keep her in view with her minions in the way, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

Frank and Mary were doing their best to stave off the hoard, their powers more effective with the necromantic and holy magic compelling the infernal energy.

“Where the FUCK is he?!” Gerard shouted. It was only then that he heard Mikey’s voice through his earpiece.

“I got it covered!” Frank answered. “Hold your breath.” As he stepped back, there was another loud  _ pop _ and cold fog enveloped the surrounding area. The demons all hissed and screamed, dropping to write against the ground. Their skin and fur bubbled, and the pain distracted them long enough for Gerard to stab them quicker.

Mary took a few steps back as well, coughing. “Ow, fuck...” he groaned, gasping for a few breaths of fresh air. “I’m good.” Once his throat stopped burning, though, he was immediately struck to the ground with a blinding flash of light.

They all were. Gerard, Frank, and Imperator fell to their knees, rubbing at their eyes until they could clearly see the image of Mikey walking closer.

“Everyone in position,” Mikey commanded. He was stripped down only to shorts and his stage paint to reveal all his open eyes, wings open, dark red halo glowing behind his head. The remnants of the holy fog bomb burned his skin, but he pushed through the pain.

Imperator howled and leaped forward, rows of teeth bared. Mikey braced himself and grabbed at her muzzle, his hands shaking as she snapped her jaws at him. He pushed back at her, gritting his teeth. His fingers started to bleed from her bites.

Mary did all he could not to trip over himself as he set three jars down in equal distance from each other around the circle. “Get her in the center!”

Gerard lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Marchosias’s midsection to help pull her back, both to the center and off Mikey.

“Gee, get back!” Mikey warned him, deeper pitches melding with his voice. “It’s okay, I got this.”

Gerard didn’t let up until she was finally moving back, her giant paws dragging through the dirt. Together, the brothers managed to throw her back into the center circle, and Gerard felt Mikey’s hand grip his upper arm and shove him back to his own place.

When the triangle was complete, Mary shouted something, and the glass jars exploded into glowing green smoke.

_ “Satanas,” _ Mikey hissed. The deep voices overlapping his own made Frank shudder. The first shape took form in the green smoke. Primo stood, ghostly and menacing with his eye as bright as a high beam.

_ “We are one--” _

Secondo appeared next.

_ “--out of three,” _

Terzo was the final ghost.

_ “Trinity!” _

The circles on the ground all lit up in flame, and the three ghosts entered the space without resistance. They grabbed Marchosias’s fur and pressed her down, though she gnashed and spat fire at them. The lesser demons around them finally started to dissipate into smoke once the sealing started taking effect.

“You think it’s going to be that easy?!” Marchosias snapped. “I am a part of you, child! You  _ need _ me! You are incomplete without me!” Opening her mouth again, she inhaled deeply and a beam of fire was launched at Mikey.

Gerard and Frank cried out. Frank grabbed a holy water bomb and threw it hard at Marchosias, the water splashing against her shoulder and neck, causing the fur to fall off. It stopped her fire breath, at least.

Mikey seemed untouched by the flames, his arms raised up to protect himself.

Mary quickly ran back to douse the flames on the surrounding trees before the whole mountain succumbed to Marchosias’s anger.

When Mikey lowered his arms, he took a breath. “I do constrain thee, Marchosias, by all the most glorious and efficacious power of the Father and His Unholy Son--”

“Are you incomplete with your family, too?” Without missing a beat, Marchosias turned to Gerard and roared, another breath of fire targeted at him. Secondo wrapped his arms around her muzzle to try and keep it shut.

Gerard only got burned on the shoulder before he ducked away from the small amount of fire that did escape her mouth. He could still hear Mikey’s incantation continuing on, and he kept his sight on the glowing embers of Marchosias’s raging eyes. “You can’t end me!” he repeated. “You can’t end  _ us! _ Lie down like the dog you are!”

“And if thou be still so disobedient, and refusest still to submit, I will by the power of The Antichrist bind thee to eternal damnation--” Mikey continued, and the flames of the circle burned brighter and higher.

Marchosias continued to fight, but she was finally being put down to a heel. Her legs trembled, feeling the weight of the Papas’ force getting heavier on her back. “I am not going down without you, Gerard,” she growled. With one last burst of strength, she pushed her body forward, and her paw stepped into the holy fire. Her paws burned, forcing a roar of pain from her, but she continued on.

Gerard couldn’t move, lest he break the spell, but she was still getting closer to her with lava dripping from her maw. “Mikey?” he called out, sitting back and pulling his legs away from her.

Fire burned up her legs, and she spat her own ball of fire at his shaking body after thrashing Secondo away from her face.

Gerard yelped and smothered the fire that clung to his ankle.

_ “I curse the and deprive thee of thine office, joy, and place, and bind thee in the Depths of the Bottomless Pit--” _

_ “Time to go, Pastor.” _ Despite the ghosts trying to keep her back, her mouth opened one more time, and her neck stretched out just enough to clamp down on Gerard’s burned foot.

Gerard screamed out and kicked her in the eye with his other foot before he was yanked toward the inner circle, through the fire. He started to curl up on himself, arms raising up to protect his head when he felt his leg get lifted up by her teeth.

And then she dropped him. Gerard rolled out of the fire, though his back sizzled from the burns, but he forced himself to look up at the screaming wolf. The incantation had stopped, and Gerard wasn’t sure if Mikey had finished or not. He only guessed that it wasn’t.

Mikey and Frank had both thrown themselves on top of her. Frank drove a crucifix down between her eyes, forcing another howl out of her as she threw her head back to the sky. Mikey’s face also twisted in pain when their skin made contact, and the eyes on his body glowed before his body went down with Marchosias.

“Mikey!” When the fires of the circle suddenly vanished, Gerard scrambled to pull Mikey’s head into his lap, ignoring how Marchosias’s demonic form slowly started to crumble in small bits. “Mikey? Mikey, talk to me!”

Frank sat back on his heels, dropping the crucifix in his hand. “Oh, shit...M--”

“Mikey!” Gerard gasped. All of his eyes were open still, except for one on his throat and another near his hip, and the two on his face looked hollow. “Hey, come on back. Come on, Mikes. Mikey. MIKEY!” Gerard was shaking now. “MARY!”

Mary knelt down by Mikey’s torso. “Gee, this is beyond my expertise. But I can tell he’s still alive.”

“His spirit isn’t on this plane,” Primo spoke up. “I can sense the rest of the court in his body, but not his.”

“Is he gonna come back?!” Gerard cried, his face soaked in tears and sweat. “Where is he?”

“Not on Earth, but not in Hell either.” Primo brushed his hand over a few of the eyes on Mikey’s leg, and he hummed. “Where he’s gone, he’ll need to find his own way out.”

“There’s holy light in him,” Terzo squatted down next to Gerard.

Frank covered his mouth with both his hands. “Oh God, Mikey...”

As Gerard’s gaze turned murderous turned Frank, Terzo rested a hand on Gerard’s shoulder. “He can still find his way back.”

“You best start praying he does, Iero.” Gerard’s tears were thick with rage, the lower lid of his white eye going red.

  
  
  
  


Mikey couldn’t breathe, but that was okay. He knew he didn’t need to here. He felt like every atom in his body had been carefully split apart and scattered throughout the space here, and at the same time, he never felt more whole. Too whole, perhaps. Like a bunch of souls cramped inside the one atom that remained of him. He wanted to look down at his body, but he was too caught up in his environment.

The space, he wasn’t sure what else to describe it as, had a dark ceiling. It had a solid ceiling, somewhere, and it could breathe. Maybe the walls did, too, wherever they were. He knew for certain that there was a floor, he could see it, anyway, and it was soft like moss to the touch, but he also felt unworthy for being able to stand on it. He felt like crying, for a short moment. Pillars towered miles high out of the floor, though he couldn’t tell if they were spaced out evenly or not. Mikey was sure there were an infinite number of them. They were carved and lit up from the bottom. He was sure they were carved like people, but every time he looked away and back again, they seemed to change on him. Sometimes they would have wings, sometimes they would have horns, sometimes they would have both. It was hard to keep up.

Mikey didn’t walk here. He floated, like drifting in a deep trench where the water pressure was enough to hug him a little too comfortably. He felt like sleeping, but that’s not what he came here to do. Something was speaking, infinite voices all at once, in a language he never heard of and still understood. The sounds reminded him more of the elements stripped down to their core than anything humans could say. Humming fire, murmuring underwater, whispering wind, chanting earth, singing void, all bound together by the essence of sound. They spoke of the ancient past and the secrets of the future. He was too afraid to look down at himself, but he could reach out and touch. He could feel the pillars. The exterior was soft like leather, and he could press gently into them. They hummed whenever he did so.

In between the whispering and the humming, he heard the sound of feathers beating against the wind. The sound was localized behind him, and he turned to see Marchosias standing there with her head bowed. The immediate moment he looked at her, his body suddenly felt incomplete. “You came to Earth in search of a throne.” The words just came into existence on their own, but Mikey knew they were from him. He didn’t recognize his voice, but they were his thoughts, bared from his being.

“I had told Solomon as such when he sealed me, that I would return for what was mine. Phenex and I would take our places as rightful kings and command the earth.” Marchosias bled between her teeth, unable to lift her head.

Mikey drifted closer to her. He felt himself smile. “You grew impatient,” he told her. “You should have waited for me, for I am your throne. You all watch over your kingdoms through me, and by harboring human flesh, you have given up your infernal majesty. You have unknowingly sealed Phenex from his full power. You have cut out pieces of me and locked them away. For that, I must punish you.”

The lights of the pillars grew brighter around them. The faces turned to Marchosias and all stared in judgment. Mikey lifted her face and plucked out her eyes, scattering the organs like dust. Now he could feel tears flowing all over his form, burning and freezing and sluicing all at once.

“Where will I go?” Marchosias asked. She did not cry. She couldn’t feel anything anymore. “What will become of me?”

“Be not afeared,” Mikey whispered. “When my time on Earth is finally done, we will be one again. But for now, I must leave you to ruminate on your sins.” He pulled what remained of Marchosias’s body close to him, embracing her from every angle. He made her feel tiny, just a speck in the vast and endless universe. A pillar before them cracked, flecks of its surface crumbling off, but it didn’t collapse. The cracks were deep, though, and its light grew dimmer.

_ “Mikey!” _

He wanted to stay. He wanted to wander and observe and speak to this place. There were so many questions he wanted to ask.

_ “MIKEY!” _

No, he still had work to do. He was telling himself that, repeating it like a mantra. But how to leave and return to where he was needed?

_ “Tollamque manum meam, et iterum nusquam timere!” _

  
  


All the eyes on Mikey’s body had started leaking blood, just small rivulets from each, and two from his nose.

Gerard was clutching his hand as tightly as he could, and he pulled Mikey’s whole body into his lap to hug him tight. “Michael, Michael, please come back.  _ Tollamque manum meam, et iterum nusquam timere.  _ Take my fucking hand, come on!”

Mikey’s body was still limp.

Mary looked over at the husk that remained of Marchosias’s body. He reached out to touch it, and ended up with soot smudged against his fingers. He looked over at the human body that remained, then back at Frank, but he seemed too far gone at the moment.

Frank hugged himself tightly, unsure of what to do except look up at the sky. “It’s not his time yet,” he whispered. “Don’t let it be his time yet.”

“Asmodai, Paimon, Lucifer, fucking  _ anyone _ , I’ll do anything to bring him back,” Gerard croaked, and sniffled hard. “Give him any help to come back.”

The eyes all turned to stare at Gerard, and Mikey’s fingers gripped back at Gerard’s hand until the grip threatened to crush bone. Mikey’s lips parted suddenly, and multiple voices hissed out. “Do you swear on your soul?”

Gerard grimaced. “Will you give me my brother back if I do?” he asked back, keeping his gaze on Mikey’s face.

“Gerard, wait. Think about this,” Secondo warned him. “If you give your soul over, then you’ll lose everything you’ve worked for. You won’t ever be able to come to Earth again.”

“Wouldn’t you do the same for your brothers?” Gerard spat back. The rim of his eye got redder, the lid lightly pooling with blood.

“Gerard, you’re the last of us--” Terzo whispered. “The Antichrist can make it back to us. Just wait.”

_ “Do you swear on your soul?”  _ the voices repeated. The veins in Gerard’s wrist started to turn black.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Gerard looked down to Mikey again. “Mikey...give me something. I’m here, I’m not giving up.”

  
  


“Gerard?” Mikey heard the voice clearer. He looked up toward the endless ceiling, and suddenly felt his body get compressed. He took a deep breath, and willed his atoms to come back together. It was a vulnerable feeling, and he hated every moment of it. He was burning from the inside out, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it felt like for stars to be born. “Gerard!” he called out again.

The moss under his feet grew into blades of grass, and wrapped around his feet and ankles, slithering all the way up his legs. The ancient languages got louder, the sound caressing his ears like velvet.  _ It’s not your time, _ they said. Or at least that’s how he understood it.

“How do I get back?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure where to look when he spoke. He could finally feel his own mouth move. The grass felt more like hands now, squeezing his skin and bones. He was sinking into the ground, being pulled under, and he struggled at first. He wanted his brother, he wanted Ray, he wanted to breathe again, but he forgot how. The ground tried to soothe him by curling around him more gently in an attempt to ease his panic, and it half worked. "Where's Gerard?" he asked the sky.

_"He awaits you,_ _"_ three familiar voices answered at once. _"Be at peace, we will bring you home."_

Mikey's sight went black, and he wished to breathe again.

  
  


Mikey’s body warmed under Gerard’s hands.

“Mikey, I’m still here. I’m not giving up on you ‘till you’re back with us.” Gerard found it getting harder to breathe, which only made him push his lungs harder.

Frank reached out to Gerard’s shoulder after seeing him get paler. “You okay?”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Gerard barked.

“Gerard, I--”

“It’s  _ your _ fucking fault he’s like this, don’t you dare try to defend yourself.”

Mary nudged Frank. “C’mon, Imperator’s body is over here. You said you’re collecting it, right?”

Frank held his breath and nodded, pushing himself up. “I...I need to make a call...” He stumbled over to the cold human body as he pulled his phone out. Sitting by the head, he double checked for a pulse, and found none, then pushed a button and held the phone to his ear. “This is Agent Iero, the sealing was a success. I’m standing by with Sister Imperator...ready for transport.” Frank sniffed hard and wiped his nose. “Cerro de la Estrella.”

“Mikey-- you’re startin’ to piss me off a bit,” Gerard chuckled weakly. “Don’t make me cross over to drag your ass back.” The black in his veins had spread all the way up to his shoulder.

Primo stroked Gerard’s hair. “Gerard, don’t give yourself over. He can hear you.”

Gerard’s eye was throbbing in pain, half his vision blurred over in red. “I--” He gasped, fighting the urge to let his eyes close. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dragging you into this, I’m sorry for hurting you.”

_ “You did this to him--”  _ the voices whispered,  _ “--You can bring him back, if you give yourself over.” _

Primo lifted Gerard’s chin. “He’s getting closer. Gerard, stay awake.”

Terzo laid a hand on Gerard’s arm. “We’ll carry him the rest of the way home. Keep breathing,  _ mio figlio _ .”

Gerard’s chest felt so heavy. “...Won’t give up on him.” He shook his head. “Bring him back.”

Secondo laid a hand over Mikey’s forehead. “His energy’s returning, crawling through the court.”

Primo smiled softly. “He’s okay, Gerard. He’s safe now.”

Gerard leaned into his touch. “Thank you...all of you,” he whispered.

As the three ghosts laid their hands on Michael’s shoulders, the eyes over Mikey’s body fluttered closed as if they had found rest. His chest shuddered with the first sign of breath, and his grip on Gerard’s hand lessened.

“Mikey?” Gerard asked again. “Michael.” He could see the forms of the Papas fade from his wet peripherals, and he pressed their foreheads together. “Breathe for me, Mikey.”

Mikey croaked, and his jaw fell slack as he coughed openly. Once he caught his breath, his body seized up and he wailed weakly.

Frank jumped and turned back to face them. “Mikey!” Without thinking, he ran back to Mikey’s other side and scrambled to tug nitrile gloves on. “Shit, Mikey, you okay?”

“Gee--” Mikey still kept gasping for breath, and his hand slipped from Gerard’s to grip his shirt. He blinked rapidly, the color of his eyes finally returning. “Fuck.”

“Where the fuck did you go, devil child?” Gerard laughed with exhaustion.

Mikey let his head fall back, and he licked his lips. “Doesn’t matter. M’here now.” He shivered hard, grimacing when he felt the remaining blood slide over his skin.

Frank shed his jacket and wrapped it around Mikey’s shoulders. “You did it, Mikey, Marchosias is gone. Or-- y’know, gone from Earth.”

Mikey nodded. “I know.”

Ignoring Gerard’s glare of warning, Frank shifted closer and helped clean off his face. “You did so well, Mikey. You saved Gerard--”

_ “Michael!” _ Gerard and Frank turned their heads to see Ray and Omega running out from the treeline. Gerard grinned in relief.

“Ray, what--” Mikey blinked. He couldn’t see Ray from his position, but he tried to turn his head to see them. “How did you...?”

“Mary contacted me.” Mary gave a playful wave behind Ray. Ray gently took Mikey from Gerard’s arms and pulled the jacket around him tighter like a security blanket. “How are you feeling?”

“My body’s a fucking clown car for demons...” Mikey whined. “Can we go home now?”

Omega knelt down next to Gerard. “Can you move at all?”

Gerard leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. “Barely.”

“I’ve got people coming to get what remains of Imperator outta here. I’ll make sure this place gets cleaned up,” Frank spoke up.

Gerard sighed. “I’ll stay with him. Take care of Mikey.”

“D’you want me to stick around?” Mary asked.

“You should never be anywhere near actual serious people from the Vatican. There’s been enough chaos tonight,” Gerard answered.

Frank nudged Gerard with his foot.

“You should probably make sure Copia’s still doing okay,” Gerard continued as he kicked Frank back, until he realized his leg had teeth wounds in it, and he cried out.

Mikey jolted in Ray’s arms. “Gee!”

“Hold still.” Omega pushed Gerard’s pant leg up. “She got you good, huh? I can stop the bleeding, but you’ll need more help to stop any infections, medical or otherwise.”

Gerard pressed his back against the grass. “Superb.”

Mikey glanced between Ray and Gerard. “Gee...” he called out again, softer this time.

“I’ll be okay, Mikey,” Gee responded shakily. “You need more rest than I do. And I’ll be outta here soon.”

Frank looped his thumbs in his pockets, and glanced back to Mikey for a moment. “I’m sorry, Mikey."

He shook his head. “Not your fault. You--” He swallowed hard and smiled timidly. “You did a lot for us tonight.”

Frank couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. This wasn’t right; it wasn’t supposed to  _ feel _ right. Any minute now, the Vatican would be sniffing all over this place. “Gerard’s right. You better get outta here.”

Mikey’s smile faded. “...Bye, Frank.”

Frank was quiet at first. His throat seized up, and he knew it was best to just break it off while he still had the chance. But he also never really had the chance to say goodbye to Mikey before, not properly. Not in Jersey, and not in Rome. He just took a deep breath and kept his back turned, and nodded to himself. “Goodbye, Mikey.” His eyes shut tight as he listened to Ray take him away to safety. Mary followed not too far behind them.

Omega pressed their hands gently around Gerard’s leg and whispered until the bleeding stopped, and that’s when they noticed the black veins on his arms. “Shit, Gerard...can I take a look at you?”

Gerard shrugged. “Go ahead.” It sounded like his consciousness was going in and out.

They nodded and lifted his shirt up to examine his chest. “Okay, good. You nearly marked your whole body as an offering, but it didn’t reach your heart. How do your arms feel?”

“Kinda like...I don’t have any, now that I think about it,” Gerard answered, now looking down at himself. “Am I gonna die?”

“No, but you probably shouldn’t use any of your sigils for a while. Let’s just say it’d be really easy to possess you right now,” they explained.

“Is Mikey okay?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah. Ray’s taking him back to the church,” they promised.

When the Vatican crew finally arrived, all traces of the summoning circle were cleaned up, and Imperator’s body was carefully hauled away, along with the remaining dust of Marchosias. Gerard was almost completely zoned out by that point, only frowning when Frank came close.

“Do you need help getting out of here, Gerard?” Frank asked. “We can give you a ride to a hospital.”

Gerard shook his head. “I don’t wanna see your goddamn faces again for as long as I live,” he grumbled without much energy.

Frank nodded. “But you do have a safe way outta here, right?”

“I got it covered,” Omega assured him.

“Hey--” Gerard sat up to lean against Omega, catching Frank’s attention again. “Our contract. Are we done with it?”

“Just about. When we get back to our designated places of residence, the deal will be considered fulfilled.” Frank smiled and pat Gerard’s unburnt shoulder.

Gerard let out a heavy sigh. “Thanks.” When he glanced back to Omega, his expression fell apologetic. “...I need to go back to the show first. I left something important behind.”

“Are you sure? I can get it for you once I get you somewhere safe,” they answered with worry.

“It’ll only take a second,” Gerard assured them. “Please?”

Omega nodded. Gerard wasn’t sure if he blacked out for a second, but when he came to his senses again, he was staring at the familiar white brick walls of the backstage hallways of the stadium. “Where’s this important thing?” Omega asked.

“Copia’s room,” he answered. The sounds of Copia’s voice were still echoing, so the show was still going on. After he limped with Omega’s help back to the room, Gerard dropped down to his knees and rifled through Copia’s clothing trunk, grinning when he found what he wanted. “Okay, got it. We can go.”

Omega just sighed and didn’t bother with questions. They wrapped their arms around Gerard from behind to help him stand again. “Where next?”

“Staten...” Gerard blacked out before he could finish the name.

  
  
  
  


The next time Gerard opened his eyes, he was laying on his side in a hospital gown. Lindsey and Omega-- no, Martin were sitting by his bedside, talking idly until they noticed his eyes were open. Gerard’s eyes rolled behind fluttering lids, and he shifted himself on his back.

“Oh, good. You didn’t die on us,” Lindsey teased, though there was heavy, genuine relief in her voice. “If you ever scare me like that again, I’m gonna kick your ghost’s ass. Seriously.”

“Am I in a hospital?” Gerard rubbed his eye.

“Sugar, your leg was fucked up real bad. And they had to check you for brain damage.” Lindsey reached out to take his hand.

“Rude...” Gerard grumbled. When he looked down to Lindsey's hand, he could see the IV in his elbow, and he shut his eyes again before his face went green. “My brain’s fine.”

Martin chuckled. “Your brain’s never been fine.”

“Whatever you went through, it also turned you grey.” Lindsey reached up to run her fingers through his hair. “But it looks good on you, anyway. Distinguished.”

Gerard scrunched his nose. “Mikey. Any word from Mikey?”

“Your brother is fine,” a grim, old voice answered from the other side of Gerard’s bed. He turned his head to see Mikey’s body standing there, but he didn’t stand or smile the way Mikey did. “I assure you, his soul is safe. Sealing away Marchosias took a lot out of him, and we’re simply taking care of his vessel.”

“Should I, uh, bow to you or something?” Gerard asked flatly.

“No, Pastor. Don’t bother moving.” Mikey’s body laid a gentle hand on Gerard’s forehead. “We almost had you there, for a moment. But you’re strong. Your love for the Antichrist is a force to be reckoned with.”

“Yeah, I know.” Gerard inhaled deeply.  “Okay. Listen, I mean you no offense, whichever one of you is speaking, but there’s really no chance I can talk to Mikey? I just-- I wanna make sure he’s okay.”

“The least I could do is let him rest beside you--”

“I’ll take it.” Gerard shifted to make room on his bed.

Mikey's body nodded and sat down first, then laid Mikey’s body down slowly. It almost seemed like he’d fallen asleep instantly, and Gerard could see Mikey return to his own body in the faint twitches of his nose, the way his legs curled up and he gripped lightly at the bedsheet.

“Is he okay?” Lindsey asked.

Gerard gently stroked Mikey’s hair. “Yeah,” he whispered back. “I think we’re all gonna be okay now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter's gonna be an epilogue of sorts, sorta like a deep breath wrapped up in a pretty lil bow
> 
> thank you all so much for sticking with me this long, i never expected so many people to even click on this haha, if you have any thoughts or questions, i always respond to comments <3


	9. 2002 (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew!!!!!!!!!!! thank you all who've read through the whole thing, watching the hit count go steadily upward kept me motivated and i'm really grateful i was able to finish this. <3

Mikey beamed a sinister grin in the dark. His plan had gone perfectly so far; his small cluster of un-legioned demons were all feasting on the mound of bio-hazardous trash he’d set up and the fuzz were on their way. The demons themselves had been a minor nuisance in the surrounding town, not like Mikey cared to do anything about it besides indulge his own interests. Demons without a member of the 72 to take orders from were too lowly to be wrangled, but tonight was a special night.

He didn’t even have to do any work, he just leaned up against the corner of the room of the giant sawmill and stayed silent when surrounding footsteps closed in. Only four pairs, he estimated, a little bit extra for one small hovel of demons, but hey. He wasn’t the one leading the charge.

Hushed voices split the silence, only barely, and then Mikey could hear the clicks of readying guns. He stepped back further into the shadows and made himself vanish completely only to appear on the landing above him. He contemplated whether or not to let his boots make a sound against the metal grating, to purposefully alert the person he was behind of his presence, but, again, this was a special night.

“On my mark,” the person murmured, two fingers pressed to his ear. He was the only one without a gun, as far as Mikey could tell. “Fire.” As gunshots roared and rained down into the pile in the center of the room, Mikey took his chance and leaped out, hugging him from behind tightly, but loosely enough so that he had air to scream. To Mikey, it sounded horrifically perfect. He hummed in delight, just ghosting his breath over the shell of his ear once he caught his breath.

“Shh, Frankie, don’t let ‘em know I’m here,” Mikey purred before the guns stopped firing, and he went silent again. One hand was still pressed against his chest, slightly irritated about the bulletproof vest in the way, while the other teased at his belt. “Sorry. Maybe I should’ve said ‘boo’ first. It’s been a while since I celebrated Halloween properly.”

Frank sighed and gripped the railing in front of him. “You need to go,” he whispered back before touching his earpiece again. “Hold. Don’t advance yet.”

There were still noises coming from the demon pile, and Mikey stared over Frank’s shoulder to observe them. “Say ‘trick or treat’.”

“Did you set this up?” Frank hissed back.

“I made this  _ easy _ for you, so you’re welcome.” Mikey’s fingers wiggled up between Frank’s shirt and the vest, making him squirm slightly. “Say ‘trick or treat’!”

Frank rolled his eyes. “This seems more like a trick to me, and if this is some sort of sabotage--” He nudged Mikey away enough to do a full 180 turn, and sighed. “--you know I’m gonna have to let the others kno-- oh.” Frank did his best not to look Mikey up and down, despite the fact that there was enough of the leather catsuit he was wearing in his peripherals. The zipper on his chest was pulled down enough to show a tasteful amount of collarbone. God, Frank hated him. “I’m  _ working _ . Go away.”

“All fun and no play makes Frankie a dull boy.” Mikey pulled something out of his pocket,  _ how the fuck does a catsuit that tight have pockets, _ and his other hand gripped Frank by the jaw. “I didn’t hear you say the wooooooooords!”

Another few gunshots went off when a demon hissed and attempted to get up, and then there was complete stillness.

“Make sure it’s clear down there,” Frank said as firmly as he could with Mikey’s hand on him, their eyes locked the whole time. Finally, he caved, eyes half-lidded in annoyance. “Trick or treat.”

Mikey pulled Frank’s jaw down enough for his lips to part, and he placed a cinnamon jawbreaker, still in the wrapper, between his front teeth. “Happy birthday, angel.”

Frank spit it into his own hand, and a smile curled on the corner of his lips. He tugged up at Mikey’s zipper until it ended at his adam’s apple. “It’s cold out there, don’t want you freezing. on the way out.” His eyes shifted from Mikey’s throat to his lips, and took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Mikey chuckled. “You’re such a gentleman.”

_ “All the targets have been eliminated.” _

Frank took a deep breath. “Start preparing the cleansing ritual,” he told the others, and cast his gaze down. “I’m gonna go now, and you’re gonna stop popping up at my missions. Okay?”

Mikey grinned. “Sure thing, Frankie. I'll see you later,” he teased, and stepped back into the shadows to vanish.

  
  
  
  


Lindsey opened the door to the green room and caught Gerard shamelessly strutting at his reflection. “Hey, Gerard Wayne. 10 minutes until we’re on, okay?”

Gerard snorted. “Come on. Tell me this shit isn’t awesome.” He turned around and spread his arms out as wide as he could so his black velvet cape with the bat-wing trim could be displayed fully. He canted his hips forward just slightly so she could also drink in the matching belt buckle, then he placed his black cane back down on the floor so he could lean on it again.

“Your costume’s great, now come on. They want you in the wing.” Lindsey waited for him to step closer, and she grabbed him by the arm to tug him to her body roughly. She pressed a hard kiss to his neck. “You gonna be okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m in full control tonight.” He followed her out into the hall and was guided behind the stage curtains. He rolled his neck to crack it and took a deep breath. The energy was high tonight already; only two thousand people waited from them out in the audience, but Gerard still saw it as pretty intimidating.  _ Whatever, _ he thought. They were gonna love this show.

When they finally went on, the energy ramped up, and Gerard’s veins felt electric. He was the last to appear before all the eager eyes, and they immediately started up with one of the first songs he wrote to warm them up. It was like the anxiousness wasn’t even there to begin with; his brain was humming and he could almost let his body go on auto-pilot, but he didn’t want to let the night go by in a blur.

The first song ended with small explosions around the edges of the stage, and Gerard caught his breath. His eyes wandered out through the crowd, up to the balcony. From the left corner, he saw Mikey and Copia. Mikey had his arms casually crossed, and Copia’s face was pinched in irritation. “Good evening,” he panted heavily against the microphone, and he glanced to Ray, baring his teeth in a spooky grin. “We’re Vindictus. This is a new song I wrote while I was possessed.”

Bob set the beat, then Ray took over with the riff. Gerard let the cape swish around a little as he turned sharply on his heel and did a skip, and finally opened his mouth again.  _ “Mama, we all go to Hell...” _

Mikey, now dressed down in jeans and the Repugnant hoodie on its last threads of life, watched Gerard carefully. Even though nearly three quarters of a year passed by since Marchosias, he couldn’t help but keep worrying about him. It took a good while for Mikey to get full control of his body back, but if Gerard was just allowing his body to be a ghost conduit for creative purposes, well, who could blame him for being a little paranoid?

Gerard certainly acted like he let spirits channel through him on stage with his erratic movements and screaming, but Mikey knew him well enough to know the difference. Nevertheless, his presence was getting the audience’s favor, and Mikey supposed that was what mattered most. The songs were certainly different, slightly less angry but still had that same touch of madness as his previous work.

  
  


By the time the show ended, Gerard had pretty much sweated out the rest of the water in his body, and he slung his arm around Martin’s shoulder to be guided away. He was still grinning, though, rambling on about how he hadn’t felt this good in forever,  _ oh my god, Martin, we were on fire! Metaphorically! They were practically singing along to the shit we didn’t release officially yet _ and Martin just nodded along, smirking to himself when he finally lowered Gerard down on a sofa.

Copia and Mikey were quick to appear, as Gerard was drying his face and neck off. “Well, congratulations on claiming California,” Mikey spoke up. “You were really meant for the stage. Copia’s got great competition.”

“Copia’s also missing something from his personal wardrobe,  _ imbroglione _ ,” the papa spoke up.

Gerard gave a quiet, yet shrill laughter. “You want it back now?” He twisted open a bottle of water and started downing the whole thing in one go.

“And make  _ me _ pay for the dry cleaning?” Copia scoffed. “I expect it back before the end of the year.”

Gerard set the bottle aside and shrugged, unclasping the cape so he could hang it up. “I’m really glad you decided to show up. How long you gonna stick around? I wanna give you a tour of the Paramour, it’s gonna be California’s biggest church. We’re also holding an afterparty there, just for the VIPs. Nobody will see us hanging out together, I know how we’re supposed to...” He gestured vaguely with a noise of indifference. “...be on different sides, or whatever.”

“Yeah, we can stay,” Mikey answered, and turned with a brightened expression when Ray entered the room and ruffled Mikey’s hair. “You were great out there! You looked so in your element and lost in it. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Michael. How’s Vadstena?”

“Always something new every day, you know. But the ghouls are a really good fit for Copia. And now you both owe us, so I’ll let you know when the next tour is.” Mikey pointed at Gerard. “I better see you there.”

Gerard stuck his tongue out. “No need to worry, devil-child.”

Mikey smiled softly as he turned back to Ray. “Man, you didn’t even break a sweat up there, did you?” He almost commented on how much better he looked than Gerard, but he stopped himself at the last minute.

Ray shrugged. “One of the benefits of being a ghoul, I suppose. Even in human disguises, we don’t show energy exertion the way you do.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Ghouls make the perfect bandmates. Kinda makes me wonder if there are any other bands out there that have ever summoned them.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it. They’re not necessarily exclusive to Vadstena,” Copia spoke up.

Mikey nodded, then let his smile fall when he looked back to his brother. “Can I talk to you for a second alone?”

Gerard eyed Mikey curiously, then shuffled him into a smaller room across the hall where most of his personal things were placed. After the door was closed, he shedded the military-style jacket off. “Everything okay?”

“I was about to ask that about you,” Mikey replied without a beat, though his voice was sincere. “I’m really happy that you’re thriving, don’t tell Copia that, but...you know. You’re not supposed to let demons or ghosts fuck around with your body.”

“I suppose you’re the expert, what with all your 70 roommates, huh?” Gerard was still smirking as he peeled off his completely soaked undershirt so he could toss on an oversized Bad Religion tee.

“It  _ does _ make me the expert, actually.” Mikey leaned back against the makeup table. “I know you’re responsible...when you want to be. And you don’t look like you’re dying or...rabid, I guess.”

Gerard snorted. “Thanks?”

“You know what I mean.” Mikey nudged his ribs. “ _ Letting  _ yourself get possessed is tricky. Just making sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

Gerard softened, pressing his knuckles gently against Mikey’s shoulder. “Martin, Ray, and I had a ceremony about it when we bought the mansion and everything. We made sure that all the spirits in the house weren’t going to kill us, and we set ground rules for them, and there’s wards all around the place. You’ll be really proud of me when you see it all.”

Mikey reached up and gently pressed against Gerard’s face with both his hands. “Gee, I’ve always been proud of you.”

“Aww, shucks, Mikey.” Gerard shoved his face. “Gonna get me all misty-eyed.”

“What about your leg?” Mikey added. “How’s that holding up?”

Gerard shrugged. “I’m pretty sure it’s always gonna be fucked up from now on, but I can still move it and stuff. Lost all feeling from the ankle down, but...you know. Could have been worse. Could’ve lost my eye or something.”

“Nihil did pretty well for himself without his eye.” Mikey shrugged.

“Yeah, well, Nihil also had his prodigy Primo nearly ready to take up the papacy at that point anyway.” Gerard scoffed with a smirk. “I’m not ready to think about the future yet. It hasn’t even been a full year yet since my lifelong revenge plot. Maybe I should start planning a midlife crisis next.”

“But look at what you’ve accomplished since then! You’re now a public enemy to the religion you were born in  _ and _ the Vatican! And you’ve got the two most powerful states in the country converted, so I’m sure plenty of others are gonna fall to you in the coming years.”

“I’m not a public enemy to you.” Gerard laughed.

“For the press’s sake, you are.”

“Yeah, because public enemies wear each other’s hoodies out in the open, huh?” Gerard poked at Mikey’s chest.

“Sorry, what was that thing about wearing Copia’s bat cape  _ on stage, _ hm?” Mikey smirked and poked him back.

“Okay, okay!” Gerard took a deep breath, a grin plastered on his face. “C’mon, let’s get outta here. I got a car waiting for me out back.”

Mikey raised a brow. “Can you still cast spells?”

Gerard idly rubbed his arm. “Yeah, but I don’t do it as often, because, y’know. It attracts spirits, and I’ve given up enough of my blood already to the Court.”

“I get it.” Mikey still eyed Gerard cautiously, trying not to be obvious about it. “Well, you know what to do if ever you need help.”

“When did my baby brother start taking care of me, hm?” Gerard opened the door again.

“When your baby brother got his own office,” Mikey teased.

  
  
  
  


The Paramour, to Mikey’s surprise, was a lot more colorful than he expected. Gerard said it was a big work in progress, considering this was still a new purchase, but it made Mikey wonder just how haunted this place claimed to be to catch someone like Gerard’s attention. Beside the color scheme, he did see potential in the actual architecture of the place.

There were already a plethora of people wandering around, most of whom were surprised to see the Antichrist casually enter the place. They muttered to themselves, unsure of what the proper etiquette was in his presence, but when Gerard scoffed at their reactions, they all seemed to calm more. Mikey found smiling to be contagious and moved on.

“The second and third floors are the ones actually made for hanging out and stuff. Clearly, the first floor’s gonna be all religion and business stuff,” Gerard rambled off as he walked backward slowly up a flight of stairs. “Although I’ve been debating with the band whether to make the third floor more for music-related work. It’s a work-in-progress.”

When Mikey stepped onto the second floor, the energy of the air changed. It felt more static to him, like he was a radio tower sending waves out to nearby channels. “You said you have the spirits here under control, right?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Yeah. That was one of the most important parts of preparing the house for us, don’t worry. We wouldn’t endanger you like that.” Gerard pressed a hand to Mikey’s shoulder.

“Okay. ‘Cause, I dunno. I feel the hauntedness now.” Mikey’s eyes shifted around from one side to the other, though he made sure not to let his nerves get the better of him. There was the faintest dull echo of a guitar being played, which caught more of his attention. “Mind if I explore a little?”

“Yeah! Please do. I’m just gonna be down the hall if you need me.” Gerard continued walking backward until Mikey turned away.

Mikey wandered closer to the far-off music until he found the source. Mary Goore was curled up in the corner of what looked like an art studio, strumming aimlessly in a giant bean bag chair until he saw Mikey in the doorway. “Mr. Goore,” Mikey said, surprised. Maybe that’s why the spectral energy felt so high.

Mary’s eyes lit up. “Hey! I didn’t expect you to show up.”

“I could say the same.” Mikey leaned against the frame. “What brings you over here?”

“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hang out in a haunted house, you should know that. It’s actually pretty nice here, your brother has a decent eye for ghosts.”

Mikey chuckled. “I’d sure hope so.”

“Oh, right. The  _ eye. _ ” Mary sighed and set the guitar aside. “In all due respect, I never knew just what that thing could do. Ya learn something new every day. Nice hoodie, by the way.”

Mikey looked down at himself, and half felt the need to cover himself up further. “Heh, yeah. This thing’s so old.”

“Yeah, I remember the design. That’s really cool, though. Vintage.” Mary tucked his hands behind his head and beamed.

“It’s actually Gerard’s,” Mikey said without thinking.

“Stealing clothes runs in the family, huh?”

“Oh. Right. Speaking of that, I guess, Copia may be along shortly.” Mikey glanced over his shoulder briefly. “We both came to see the show. It was really good, actually.”

Mary looked blindsided. “You don’t say...I didn’t know Copia was into Gee’s stuff.”

“It was mostly me. I promised I’d come and Copia didn’t really want me going alone.” Mikey loosely hugged himself. “Anyway, s’good to see you.”

“Mister Antichrist...” Mary preened. “Maybe I’ll just have to invite you to our reunion show.”

“I’d love that, honestly. Keep me posted, you know how to reach me.” Mikey started moving back.

“Likewise,” Mary called out.

As Mikey moved back toward the stairwell, his smile grew when he saw Ray coming up. He waited on the top step. “Did you have any say in picking this place out?”

“It was mostly Gerard, but he wanted to make sure we were all on board with the idea of owning the property,” Ray explained, continuing down the hall with Mikey beside them. “But it was a pretty easy decision for everyone. There’s still a lot that we have to work on, of course, but it’s going to be a good project for us.”

Mikey’s eyes couldn’t stop taking in the smaller details. “I can’t wait to see the progress. What about the place in New York? How’s that doing?”

“Oh, good. Gerard has enough reverends now to start looking over the places he can’t be, but I think the New York church will always be his home.” Ray entered the open room at the end of the hall, where Gerard was leaning on the railing of the outside balcony. “Expanding a religion is certainly a process, as I’m sure you know.”

“I mean, mine is spread out enough as it is. But I gotta keep giving you guys challenges.” Mikey nudged Ray.

“Believe me. You’re challenging enough,” Gerard called out when they got closer, eventually stepping outside to join him. He handed them both glasses of wine. “One day, though, I’m gonna be the one challenging  _ you. _ ”

“I’m eager for that day to come.” Mikey raised his glass as a toast and drank as he looked out over the city beyond them. “For now, though, I’m glad to be where we are.”

“Yeah. We did alright, didn’t we?” Gerard sighed softly.

Mikey chuckled. “ _ Alright, _ please. We did amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaa so this is something i've been working on for a month already, and it's still in the works! but i got too excited to post it once the first chapter was in a place i felt comfortable with so i hope it's good!


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